'Elizabeth Rex' at Chicago Shakes

She enters quietly, through the back, not so that she may avoid attention but so that she may take them by surprise: so that once she gets their attention, she may possess it fully. This is Queen Elizabeth I, or, as she was sometimes known, Elizabeth Rex, Elizabeth the King, a woman who, in order to rule, has extinguished all her womanhood. From the moment she enters, Elizabeth is in control––until suddenly she isn't. Until suddenly an actor pipes up and tells her that she's full of it. Until she is faced with a man who, facing death and with nothing to lose, becomes the mirror in which Elizabeth can finally behold her nature.

Welcome to Elizabeth Rex at Chicago Shakes, written by Timothy Findley and directed by Barbara Gaines. It's a play whose eyes might be bigger than it's stomach but leaves you feeling full and satisfied nonetheless. The play takes place over a single night but seeks to capture an entire era: specifically Elizabeth England in the waning years of its namesakes reign when revolutions were around every corner playwrights like Will Shakespeare forced to falsely exclaim that any resemblance in their plays to persons either living or dead was purely coincidental.

As the play begins, Shakespeare (Kevin Guhdahl) and his troupe are bedding down for the night in Elizabeth's royal barn after a command performance of Will's latest, "Much Ado About Nothing." The leading lady, well, the actor who plays the leading ladies, Ned Lowenscroft (Steven Sutcliffe) is in a huff because the leading man, Jack Edmund, (Andrew Rothenberg) dropped an important queue line and also because he, Ned, is dying of syphilis. Into this scene steps Elizabeth (Diane D'Aquila) who seeks refuge amongst the actors in order to distract herself from about-to-be-carried-out (on her own orders) execution of her former lover and recently attempted deposer, Robert Devereaux, The Earl of Essex. However Ned will have nothing to do with assuaging Elizabeth's guilty conscience and so appoints himself royal teller-of-truths. Elizabeth accepts Ned's challenge and the two soon strike upon a bargain: Ned, whose spent his all-too-brief life playing Shakespeare's greatest heroines will teach Elizabeth how to be a woman if Elizabeth the King will teach Ned how to be a man.

The play is packed full of Shakespeare parallels. Elizabeth and Ned resemble nothing more than Lear and his Fool. Sheakspeare makes frequent reference to the next play this he is writing, Antony and Cleopatra, a play that Ned once wished to star in and a story that Elizabeth sees as uncomfortably close to her own. Shakespeare lovers will have fun parsing all the different references out of the script, whereas everyone will be able to enjoy the play's strangest shout-out. Just as in Shakespeare's A Winter's Tale, Elizabeth Rex features a thoroughly delightful but entirely unnecessary bear. That is right, this play has a bear. The role is performed by Jude Roche in a full bear costume and I give Chicago Shakes immense credit in pulling the effect off. It never once looked fake.

Sutcliffe and D'Aquila are given by far the juiciest roles in show and each one tears in almost reckless aplomb. Were they not such consummate professionals the show could easily verge too far into camp as opposed to just far enough. Both Ned and Elizabeth are given witty bon mots by the barrelful and D'Aquila in particular delivers her take-downs with a practiced, devastating over-annunciation that marks her as a seasoned theater pro. Her performance could not be described as subtle, but, then again, Elizabeth is not a subtle role. One might as well have asked for subtlety from Gloria in Sunset Boulevard. It would be wrong for the part. Elizabeth is a rip-roaring granddame and in that arena D'Aquila delivers. Sutcliffe is provided with more depth as Ned and he makes the most of it. He captures Ned's shifts fear into longing, grace into hysteria and withering misanthropy into bruised empathy with conciseness and clarity. As much as the show belongs to D'Aquila, I think that his Ned is the show's true highlight.

Guhdahl's Shakespeare is a grounding presence, keeping the show from spinning off its axis when Ned and Elizabeth crank it up to 11. Rothenberg isn't given much to do besides smolder as Jack Edmund but his few moments of open Irishman's defiance towards Elizabeth hint at the greater depths that he is capable of playing. From the supporting cast, Roderick Peeples deserves special commendation as a drunken, randy actor who uses his friar's costume towards very unfriarly ends.

The set design by Daniel Ostling is does much to set the ominous mood of revolution, the barn's cross beams resembling hangman's scaffolding. It also provides a large playing space for the actors to work in, which Gaines makes use of, almost constantly keeping the actors in motion and utilizing entrances and exits through the house. Mariann S. Verheyen's costumes and Melissa Veal's make-up and wigs are joyously done and do a lot to bring the stage to life within the sets deep shadows. Elizabeth's dress and make-up are ornate show-stoppers while Ned's hospice pajamas and oozing sores make him look appropriately saintly and cursed. Philip S. Rosenberg's lighting design toggles back and forth between realist and expressionistic, soft warm lamplight yielding to striking, heavenly shafts from above. The show's final look actually took my breath away. Lindsay Jones sound design was good for the most part but featured a number of unfortunately over done hawk calls that every time had me thinking that The Colbert Report was about to begin.

My largest qualm with Elizabeth Rex was that, as fun Ned and Elizabeth are, they ultimately seem like retreads of other, great characters that I would have rather seen the actor's play. The play almost seemed like it began as a Prior Walter meets Lady Bracknell piece of fanfiction, which Finley then decided to make about Elizabeth I and Shakespeare in order to cover his tracks. I could never get those characters out of my head, hard as I may try. However, on the other side of the coin, this play can only benefit from comparisons to Roland Emmerich's Anonymous which recently treated the same subject with a lack of subtlety (or basis in reality) that makes this look like A Cherry Orchard. Perhaps the best way to describe the play lies in the middle. If you want to see a play that is like if Tony Kushner wrote Anonymous, starring both Prior Walter and Lady Bracknell, then by all means go and see this show. And if you don't want to see that play, then what the heck is wrong with you? It runs through January 22nd. For tickets, visit http://www.chicagoshakes.com/rex

Reviewed by: Alex Huntsberger
Photos by: Liz Lauren