Late in life, when writers are more inclined to take the bigger, sadder, more complicated view of our long haul on this planet, William Shakespeare wrote (or more likely co-wrote) what variously are called the romances, the late plays or last plays. I sometimes think of them as the mellow plays, since such works as “Cymbeline,” “The Tempest” and “Pericles” — the third now at Chicago Shakespeare Theater on Navy Pier — are awash with the notion that happiness is usually tempered with sorrow, wins with losses, and desperation with the possibility of redemption.
By 1608, when “Pericles” likely was written, Shakespeare had also arrived at an acute awareness of the role of chance in our lives. The wheel of fortune in these plays tends to spin without regard to deserving. If you’re a restless, middle-aged person (guilty), these dramas of pointless voyages across tempestuous seas have, well, particular resonance.
Sitting solo on Navy Pier on Wednesday night in just such a mood, taking in director David Bell’s meandering but consistently resonant production, one other thing hit me hard: At the holidays especially, plenty of people wish someone lost could come back to life.
I suppose even Shakespeare is still subject to spoilers, so I won’t give away the last act. Let’s just say that old Pericles has a couple of very good days. I looked around at one point — the show has some sags in the stakes department — and locked eyes with a stranger who, I’d swear without firm journalistic evidence, was thinking about how nice it would be to reunite with someone who won’t be there at Christmas dinner.
That is, actually, the main takeaway of every decent “Pericles,” and this is quite a substantial production, anchored by the superb Canadian actor Ben Carlson. Over the years, I’ve seen Carlson do many of the most famous Shakespearean plays, from “Hamlet” on down. His dominant modus operandi has been to infuse all those earlier, more energized works with some of the qualities of the late romances. To put that another way, his happy moments as, say, Benedick or whomever always have more notes of sadness than you’d see with most actors. Carlson is nothing if not resolutely down to earth. And, on the flip side, his moments of despair in Elsinore and beyond are usually infused with hope.
Carlson is an excellent Pericles because we care about what happens to him, what life throws in his way and how people treat him, which is the point of the play.
Bell’s overall approach is to emphasize the work’s narrative, ensemble-style storytelling. With designer Scott Davis offering a fluid visual landscape keyed (as are Nan Cibula-Jenkins’ costumes) on a sensualized Middle East, the show sometimes recalls Mary Zimmerman’s “The Arabian Nights” or some adaptation from a great, ancient narrative text. “Pericles” certainly lends itself to that approach, though the downside of all this self-conscious storytelling, which one feels here throughout, is that the whole affair takes on a Zen-like quality, as beautiful people populate a landscape and tell us a preordained lamplight story.
To his credit, though, Bell does not run away from the darkness or the troubling sexual violence of the drama — there are times when you can see danger in the eyes of his very ensemble-minded cast, although nobody quite knows how to meld those sections into the whole. And there are also moments when it all comes off as too much of a wash, with too little moment-by-moment drive. Although the superb Cristina Panfilio’s Marina is poignant throughout, some of the other scenes of trauma and joy remain too much on the surface.
Nonetheless, the show never loses its audience. In this busy field of characters, Ora Jones (in more than one role) keeps driving on with requisite force, and Kevin Gudahl, who is becoming quite the emotional eminence grise at this point in his acting career, embodies the mood of a work very much about acceptance and living in the moment.
“Pericles” is a tricky play, not least because the dude on the marquee disappears for a lot of the meat of the play in the middle. Since he’s our way in and the glue that holds everything together, those sections tend to twist in the wind. I’m for making more cuts there, and for infusing those sections with more dramatic immediacy — keeping the absent Pericles present.
But once Carlson’s Prince of Tyre returns, the play finds a sure voyage home. If you’re a Shakespeare-specialist type, you’ll find everything here smart and provocative and much upon which to chew. If you think of yourself as more of a regular person looking for something of meaning this season, this is the kind of show that makes you more appreciative of those you love.
“‘Tis time to fear when tyrants seem to kiss,” Pericles observes. True, that.
And it take a few years on this earth to understand that truth, not to mention this one: “For death remembered should be like a mirror, Who tells us life’s but breath, to trust it error.”
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3 STARS
When: Through Jan. 18
Where: Chicago Shakespeare Theater on Navy Pier
Running time: 2 hours, 40 minutes
Tickets: $48-$78 at 312-595-5600 or chicagoshakes.com