I am not a voluntary theater-goer. Acquaintances would not describe me as a patron of the fine arts. As I drove to the Friday night performance of Romeo and Juliet, I turned on my radio and disagreed passionately with the announcer’s views on the upcoming UFC fight. Red digits glowed in the night: 2.99. Maybe this inviting gas price was a sympathetic gesture from ExxonMobil, an offering to lonely souls spending Friday night on the interstate. The man at the gym door looks at me expectantly; to view this show will require a monetary sacrifice, a symbolic gesture to ensure I am fully committed to the theater. Sadly I part with six dollars, and think of the two gallons of gasoline that will sit in the pump, unpurchased.
I shuffle down the aisle with my companion and take my seat. We prepare ourselves mentally for the next ninety minutes. Onstage, a swarm of actors emerges from behind the curtains. In their hands they carry golf clubs, lead pipes, and strange little crescent-shaped blades that appear to hang from keychains. I sit straighter in my seat. The actors size each other up and, after choosing opponents, split into fiercely dueling pairs. They rush around the stage, knives flashing. Pipes collide and fall to the ground. Seven irons are wielded with remarkable grace. I glance at my neighbor, begrudgingly impressed.
Footsteps echo down the aisle behind us. Jackson Davis’s Romeo brushes past our seats, clad in a button-down and jeans. He joins Savanna Juarez’s Juliet onstage and says his lines, long jumbles of old English and frenzied hand gestures. His accent isn’t bad. The lights go down and there’s a rush of movement. The spotlight flickers on and illuminates what is now a party, complete with drinks. My colleague raises his eyebrows. The party dissolves into another golf club and lead pipe frenzy, drinks thrown and tables flying.
Several long minutes of dialogue pass, and I sink in my seat. There seems to be a disagreement between the kids in red jackets and those in blue. Then Tybalt (Jack Jahoda-Wassung) and Mercutio (Audrey Scialla) confront each other onstage. I remember this part from English class, I think. For a couple tense minutes they bounce off each other, yell, and fall to the floor until Jahoda-Wassung’s Tybalt finally gains the upper hand. Unfortunately for him, I also recall the next scene from freshman English. Soon, he joins Scialla on the planks of the stage.
Finally comes the part I’ve been waiting for. Juliet lies prone on the stage, feigning death. Davis’s Romeo enters and seems distressed by this. After several impassioned speeches (he seems somewhat attached to her) he downs the poison. Juliet immediately wakes up, a bit tardy. Seeing Romeo sprawled on the floor, she decided to join him.
I leave, with renewed appreciation for the arts. This classic performance about the dangers of teenage relationships was put on impressively well by a cast mostly below voting age. The sets were convincing and the transitions were excellent, with scenes flowing seamlessly together. The two lead actors performed their parts admirably and without hesitation, backed up by a well-choreographed ensemble cast. Davis made the entire auditorium his stage, bringing the audience into this age-old drama. Six dollars well spent. 5/5.
