[In the following review, Kohn asserts that Richard Monette's 2003 Stratford Festival production of Troilus and Cressida effectively demonstrated the madness of war. Kohn also praises Bernard Hopkins's bawdy, bisexual performance as Pandarus as vital to this rendition of the play.]

For his startling, energized staging of Troilus and Cressida, Richard Monette has taken as his text these summarizing lines: “Lechery, lechery; still wars and lechery.” In other words, what we have here is the Trojan War with a lot more horsing around.

Now, the line goes on to say, “Nothing else holds fashion.” What some ears may hear is “Lechery, lechery … nothing else old-fashioned.” That works, too. The depiction of battles and bawdiness is as ancient as, well, battles and bawdiness, but there is little else old-fashioned about Monette's interpretation.

Speaking of things misheard, unsuspecting audiences may be under the impression that Shakespeare's play is about Troilus and Cressida, a pair of Trojan lovers. It is not. It is mostly about the folly of war and the mythological warriors on either side: Achilles, Ulysses, Ajax, Hector, Paris, Aeneas. And thanks to a stunning performance by Bernard Hopkins, the play is very much about Pandarus, the go-between who brings his niece Cressida (Claire Jullien) and Troilus (David Snelgrove) together.

Pandarus here would, in a less politically correct climate, be called a raging queen. He is first seen wearing an awful blond wig, a long androgynous garment, pearls, earrings and a big straw hat as he saunters about the stage waving his frond. The characterization posits a reason for Pandarus' apparently selfless efforts to help Troilus win Cressida: He enjoys the sheer sexual intensity.

Monette offers a similar reason why Achilles, despite his fabled reputation as a soldier, stays in his tent: Achilles' buddy, Patroclus, is more than just a friend.

Rampant randiness, homo- and heterosexual, abounds, providing an edge not always apparent on the printed page: Pandarus ogles and gropes promising young men; Troilus and Cressida paw at each other, in lust but not really in love; Achilles (Jamie Robinson) and Patroclus (David Shelley) get physical, with brief nudity; the Trojan prince Paris (Tim Campbell) rolls around on the floor with his Helen of Troy (Linda Prystawska). Having won such a prize, Campbell often goes around with a souvlaki-eating grin on his face.

All the while there hangs the threat—later the reality—of bloodshed. Above the fray is a wise and raggedy Shakespearean fool named Thersites, lovingly played by Stephen Ouimette, deriding the foolishness of war and lechery.

Foolish they may be, but rarely has Stratford approached these themes so engagingly.