[In the following review of the 2002/2003 staging of Much Ado about Nothing at the Shakespeare Theatre in Washington, D.C., Lipstein observes director Mark Lamos's reliance on low comedy to carry the play.]

In the Shakespeare Theatre's production of Much Ado About Nothing, director Mark Lamos has consciously chosen to emphasize the lighter side of the play, an approach that results in irreconcilable internal inconsistencies. Set in the 1920s, the play opens with Leonato and other characters sitting in a lush green garden, their heads turning from side to side following the sound of a tennis ball making contact with a racquet—perhaps a prelude to the back and forth wit of Beatrice and Benedick. The set is a carefully manicured lawn, reached by white marble stairways on either side and arched ivy-covered doorways in the back. Above is a walkway with a low marble balustrade. The movable trees and bushes are all neatly shaped pyramids.

As the messenger arrives to announce Don Pedro's return from the war, Beatrice and Hero enter from opposite sides of the lawn in chase of the tennis ball that has been “mishit.” The sunglasses and straw hats, lightweight suits, and Hero's and Beatrice's 1920s vintage white tennis frocks signal that it is summer. Later, at Leonato's feast, women wear colorful flapper-style dresses, and the masks at the ball are reminiscent of Mardi Gras.

From their first encounter, it is clear that this Benedick is no match for this Beatrice. Karen Ziemba is an intelligent and perky Beatrice, whose wit is not acerbic but good-natured. Benedick is not her intellectual equal. To compensate, Lamos has Benedick play to the audience, always taking us into his confidence, sharing his thoughts, and revealing a certain vulnerability. He is not a tough soldier hardened against women but, rather, a “professed tyrant” out of insecurity. He is easily gulled once he is “confident” that Beatrice actually loves him.

The gulling scenes are played as low comedy. Benedick sends his boy to fetch a book. The boy returns with a book as Benedick, by now hiding behind a bush, shoos him away as if Claudio, Leonato, and Don Pedro had not already seen him. Don Pedro, Leonato, and Claudio play the gulling over the top. Leonato, responding to the suggestion that Beatrice counterfeits affection for Benedick, over-emotes “Oh God! Counterfeit?” When Don Pedro asks “What effects of passion shows she?”, Leonato is suddenly at a loss, and he looks to the others for help before he lamely comes up with “She will sit you—you heard my daughter tell you how” (2.3.107-11). They are so involved in weaving their deception that they fail to notice that Benedick has moved his hiding place. As they look around, Benedick's boy re-enters with a stack of books and leads them to where Benedick is now hiding.

When they exit, Benedick takes a few seconds to let the message sink in and then almost shrieks “Whoa!” and shakes himself. He then comes forward and takes the audience into his confidence as he rationalizes his instant attitude adjustment. When Beatrice comes to bid him come in to dinner, he strikes a pose to thank her but is thrown off guard by her response before he recovers and tries to interpret her “double meaning.”

Beatrice's gulling takes place among sheets hanging on the clothesline. Hero and Ursula weave among the sheets, and Beatrice “hides” in front of a sheet when they are behind, then ducks behind the sheet as they emerge. When they sense that she is hooked, they begin taking the sheets off the line. Beatrice moves among the sheets as they come down until she is standing in front of the last one. She runs behind a bush as they unpin the sheet. Her contemplation of the revelation of Benedick's affection is much cooler than Benedick's, but there is still the same sense that Hero and Ursula have played on her vulnerability. She is no less insecure than Benedick, but she has a harder time letting go of her defensive quick wit.

Don John's deception, although it results in the devastation of Hero, does not seem to be motivated by a deep hatred of his brother or of Claudio but, rather, by boredom and delight in making mischief for the sake of making mischief. The Dogberry-Verges scenes, with the potential for tedium, were well paced. Dogberry was a good-natured officer, the three characters of the “watch” appearing almost American Gothic with the tools of their trades.

The downside of Lamos' choice to emphasize the lighter aspects of the play is that Benedick must fight to regain his character in the second part of the play. When Benedick approaches the weeping Beatrice and protests his love for her, the text suggests tension, even potential shock, when she tests his love by asking him to “Kill Claudio,” but this line invariably resulted in laughter, halting the movement toward a deeper relationship between Beatrice and Benedick and lightening the seriousness of the shame and hurt to Hero.

The Friar emerges as the strong character in the rejection scene. He takes charge of his “lost” flock, advises them, and almost succeeds in reaching to the darker or deeper aspects of the play, but his small part, standing alone, cannot bridge the gap the director has chosen to create.

The production ends on a characteristically light note, with lively dancing, including a Charleston.