Cymbeline

Within the annual curriculum of the second year of A.C.T.'s Advanced Training Program is an in-depth unit on Shakespeare. Randall Stuart has a keen interest in the less-produced of the Bard's plays, having worked on multiple productions of both Pericles and Timon of Athens. Set in an ancient vein, Mr. Stuart's 1993 production of Cymbeline at the A.T.P. included an indepth dramaturgical exploration, live music and choreography and a creative re-ordering of the text to tell this mystical tale of ancient London, Wales and Rome.

The cast of Cymbeline immersed themselves in a deep investigation the text, its meanings and the history of the times, illuminating and exploring the more sacred aspects of the Roman/Briton civilizations and the Druids.

Randall returned the following year to direct the A.T.P. students in both All's Well That Ends Well and The Two Noble Kinsmen.

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"Why he but sleeps. If he be gone, he'll make his grave a bed: with female fairies will his tomb be haunted."

The Druids possessed towering healing powers, as well as a tenacious dedication to the noble practice of storytelling. Fact and myth were passed down through oral tradition. Here then is the Bard's ancient aural rendering of the Celt King Cunobulin, protector of the Catavelauni, and the tale of how his princess daughter ventures forth and triggers all of the characters to move towards a personal indemnification. With a nod to the druidic concept of the Triple Goddess, our "fierce abridgement" is divided into three equal parts; and the studious cast was, I must note, a professor's dream. We went deeply "within and without", researching the dualities of Rome and England circa 33 BCE, discovering the possible metaphysical intent of the author. A marvelous dream; thanks to Jupiter.

"So fair an outward, and such stuff within…"

The element of Air lifts this tale, as the characters wing their way toward pardon and healing. In most fairytales someone is bound to go into a forest to find something: their power, a lost feeling, or one another. Posthumus Leonates dares to cross the woods and waters, and even when dark thoughts about his Imogen get the better of him, he crosses back over, back home again, to fight his way towards his dearest love, Imogen. The play is alive with magic: a baneful Queen is thirsty for alchemy and Cornelius possesses just such an apothecary's intuition; the fairies are mentioned; men dream of gods and are delivered "evidential" messages (waking with impossible scrolls in their hands.) Even the Romans (on British soil) bring with them a Seer to forecast the future.

I love this play and think it's a piece of smart romance literature with an abiding constancy. The fine line of comedy and tragedy is never more finely walked than when Cloten loses his head (because after all he's been losing it in so many ways for three entire acts.) He is a lovable insolent, a slack-jawed vulture and a childlike wooer - a pitiful fool whose story we do care about. The imagery of the play is in many ways an homage to Mother Earth, as is to be expected of the playwright's later plays. A womblike cave protects the innocent; the covering trees, flowers and especially birds are frequent. King Cymbeline is thought to be a majestic cedar and Caesar an eagle.

"…that which makes him both without and within."

Yet, even though I pen a valentine about the play, it has also been faulted (over these 400 years) as being a troubled script and a rambling yarn. Shaw is among the loudest critics, citing Act V as problematic and even daring to rewrite the entire end of the play in Cymbeline Refinished. I'd enjoy a heated discussion with the great G.B. himself, for I see Act V as rich with wonder, the unfinished threads of thr preceding acts woven into a blanket of forgiveness. Act V offers the ensemble clues of where they might actually begin in Act I. It's a beautiful circle: Posthumus' prophetic dream, and the report of Belarius and his boys helping to win the siege, all are perfect aspects of this shining adventure; subplots illuminated, like that of Iachimo's villainy, riding side-by-side that of the buffoonery of Cloten. So yes! - it is a metaphysical play, concerned with the duality of "within and without". And so, when we retire the show, and I am apart from this ensemble of rambunctious and scintillating actors, I will know Belarius' heartbreak:

"Their dear loss, the more of you 'twas felt,

the more it shap'd unto my end of stealing them.

But gracious sir, here are your sons again,

and I must lose two of the sweet'st companions in the world.

The benediction of these covering heavens fall on their heads like dew,

for they are worthy to inlay heaven with stars."