The program notes of "The Venetian Twins" state that its author, Carlo Goldoni, was the author of no less than 200 plays. This does not inspire the potential audience member with a great deal of confidence: Shakespeare accomplished 37, Moliere 34. Exactly how Signor Goldoni managed to be that prolific, yet maintain a standard high enough to merit the performance of his work at Dartmouth, was a question I, at least, was concerned about
Anxiety is very soon dispelled. "The Venetian Twins" is an exceptionally entertaining, talent-packed comedy. Credit for this however does not lie at Goldoni's door; he clearly never took on board the maxim that anyone who has ever sat down to write a paper at midnight for 10 a.m. the following morning knows only too well: that it is quality and not quantity that counts.
Fortunately, his original is buried deep beneath Michael Feingold's translation, James Loehlin's detailed direction and a strong and energetic performance by the entire cast.
The plot revolves around Zanetto and his twin brother, Tonino, both parts played by Jonah Blumstein '98. The former's lack of social graces and general nuances contrast sharply with the latter's quick tongue and incisive mind. By the law of coincidence that so frequently governs these matters, Zanetto arrives in Venice to court Rosaura on the same day his twin comes fleeing disgrace in Verona to meet up with his fiancee, Beatrice. Not surprisingly, confusion results, leading to countless fights, a false arrest and two very indignant females before the climactic denouement.
Lohelin's frequent decision to break away from the immediate thrust of the narrative is responsible for much of the play's success. Often gags are not explicitly suggested by the script but rather the result of skillfully interwoven quirks of characterization. On many occasions attention is momentarily drawn away from the speaker to an incidental character, busily involved in an activity which alone is a source of humor. These innovations, whether attributable to cast or director, tread the thin line between upstaging and being a welcome diversion from a plot whose course is rarely difficult to predict, with style.
In the lead role Blumstein is superb, deftly switching from brother to brother with an astounding ease and confidence. This is no mean feat when you realize that there are few scenes in the entire two hours when he is not on stage. It is a performance that seems informed by countless Hollywood films: parodying either the cocky, smooth talking yet lovable hero who always gets the girl or the bumbling clown way out of his depth in the big city, 20th century cinema's generic types resonate throughout the characterizations.
Foremost amongst the rest of the cast is Vanessa Pierce '98 who plays Rosaura. As the petulant and slightly vacant betrothed of Zanetto she deftly avoids the easy error of displaying a mere handful of exaggerated expressions, which sometimes are regarded as the key to comic acting. Dumb Rosaura may be but Pierce succeeds in giving the impression that there is some sort of thought process going on behind her big dark eyes.
The set unwittingly makes her task all the more difficult. Save the final scene she only ever appears inside, acting in an extremely small space so her potential to move is restricted. It is thus mostly by tiny gestures, shifts in facial expression and her tone of voice that she holds the audience's attention. In a play that is heavily reliant on physical humor Pierce's skill is particularly apparent.
In many ways though this is an ensemble production: many scenes are reliant on timing and trust and all the actors enact elaborate routines with efficiency and obvious pleasure. Their clear enthusiasm and enjoyment is infectious, drawing an audience in, often literally, both to collude with the action and join with the actors own self-conscious mockery of the genre.
In all technical areas the production is exemplary: the lighting and sound design is complex and innovative whilst the set makes excellent use of the available space, incorporating a ramp into its design which is put to good use throughout the performance. In color and texture it is clearly intended to complement the lavish costumes. These use many rich and patterned fabrics, many of them floral, to make-up a wardrobe which for the most part would be welcome on a Merchant-Ivory film set.
If anything is to be faulted it would have to be the uncomfortable resolution of the plot, a criticism of Goldoni alone. Attempts to laugh off what is essentially sinister are doomed to failure and it is difficult to ignore the resonances of the Doppelganger which, though they pervade the entire play, are foregrounded at the end, only to be casually swept aside.
Ultimately "The Venetian Twins" is an excellent night out. Even those who profess a dislike of farce on principle almost certainly will find something to laugh at in this clever and talented interpretation.
