A moralistic politician who doesn’t follow the high standards of purity he imposes on others. A waffling ruler fleeing from his responsibilities. A strait-laced puritan who chooses honor over her brother’s life.
It’s obvious why, of all Shakespeare plays, “Measure for Measure” particularly resonates in our era of two-faced leaders and contradictory messages about sexuality.
Young Claudio (LeRoy McClain) has impregnated his lover, and so the grim Angelo (Rocco Sisto) — in power while the ruling Duke has taken a leave of absence — decides to strictly enforce the letter of the law and execute him.
Claudio’s chaste sister, Isabella (Elisabeth Waterston), tries to reason with Angelo; he suggests he may show mercy if she offers herself to him. But Isabella does not hook up. She’ll remain pure, even if that means a death sentence for her brother.
Meanwhile, the Duke (Jefferson Mays) observes the proceedings disguised as a friar. Dismayed, he sets up an elaborate ploy to reveal Angelo’s double standards.
Directing for Theater for a New Audience, Arin Arbus opted for a pared-down approach similar to the one in her “Othello” last year. She lets the text speak for itself, allowing the characters’ contradictions and ambiguities to drive the action.
The modern-dress production moves at a steady clip, and Arbus renders the play’s issues as clear as CliffsNotes. This isn’t backhanded praise: Making Shakespeare accessible to, well, “a new audience” is nothing to sniff at. But it also over-simplifies the gray areas.
The play is about people trying to uphold impossibly high standards: Compromise is as difficult to negotiate as righteousness. Unfortunately, Sisto’s one-note Angelo doesn’t suggest much inner turmoil, and in her calf-length skirt and sensible flats, Waterston’s Isabella is like a Mormon missionary impervious to temptation — there’s no inkling that these characters are agonizing over their choices.
Only the chameleonic Mays (you will not recognize the German transvestite from “I Am My Own Wife” or prissy Professor Higgins from “Pygmalion”) etches a multifaceted portrait. His Duke is comedically bumbling at times, cunningly wise at others, but he always makes sense as a character, and is the only one who actually evolves during the play. This ruler may give the right measure yet.