THEATER REVIEW : ‘Twelfth Night’ Is a Ladies Night

“Twelfth Night” is a play that bears many viewings because in any production one of a half-dozen major characters may step forward to claim center stage. In a summer full of “Twelfth Nights” (Shakespeare Orange County and the Old Globe both open versions in the next two weeks), the first is the Shakespeare Festival/LA’s production, now at the Japanese Gardens of the West Los Angeles VA Medical Center. This is clearly ladies night at the garden: Thanks partly to a phalanx of bland male performances, the only romance on stage is between the Countess Olivia and her reluctant suitor, the shipwrecked Viola, dressed as the boy Cesario.

Of course almost everyone falls in love in “Twelfth Night,” often with the suddenness of a thunderstorm, which makes this the perfect play to see outdoors on a summer evening. Cesario swoons for her master, the Duke Orsino. Orsino, while experiencing strange stirrings for his servant Cesario, sends him/her to woo his beloved Olivia, who throws off her mourning for her brother after one look at this unusual boy (“Even so quickly may one catch the plague?”). Homoerotic impulses are the order of the day in “Twelfth Night.”

Arminae Azarian’s Olivia, stunning in several wide-brimmed hats, or with her hair swept back rather in the style of Imelda Marcos, is both reckless and dignified when she throws herself at the perplexed Cesario. Shana Wride is an appealingly wry Cesario, whether fending off hopeless female advances or adopting an unimpressive male growl during a sword fight. When these two discuss the nature of love, it is a conversation of equals. Their chemistry points up a weakness in the play: The men are not worthy suitors.

Orsino, in Patrick Roman Miller’s blustery performance, sends a boy to woo in his place because he’s actually ambivalent. His overheated adoration of Olivia reveals both a cowardice and an emptiness, just as his prattling about love reveals some misogyny. In Orsino’s view, women can’t love as fully because they “lack retention.” He also grandly claims his love is “more noble than the world” and “as hungry as the sea.” One suspects it is also as predictable. Viola’s desire for this Orsino is much harder to understand than Olivia’s indifference to him.

In the magical land of Illyria where the play is set, Feste can usually be counted on to provide some male wit. Under Will Roberson’s uneven direction, though, Feste is a hulk of a man in a body suit (made of netting and tiny masks, a leitmotif of the set), a Mohawk and black lips. This aura of skinhead is not a light image for a jester, and Brian Joseph does not overcome it; his Feste is morose and a bit of a scowler. He uses a rattle to punctuate his witticisms, the way a comic relies on a snare drum. Otherwise, they might go completely unnoticed.

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“Twelfth Night” also has a band of merry mischief-makers and idiots. Sir Toby Belch (Fred Sanders), the maid Maria (Candi Milo) and the dimwit Andrew Aguecheek (Patrick Thomas O’Brien), looking a little like Dana Carvey’s Garth in a straw hat, take it upon themselves to unmoor Olivia’s steward Malvolio. Their prank--to make Malvolio a fool for love--is unfortunately not terribly merry. It should be a sure-fire visual joke: they trick a man who is pomposity personified into wearing yellow stockings and ridiculous cross-garters. Yet the pranksters and the extent of their maliciousness is never clearly defined. They seem almost indistinguishable from one another, and their joke is tedious.

As Malvolio, Tom Ramirez, the only one here attempting a British accent, hints at some unexpected feeling when Malvolio is imprisoned and blindfolded. But the cruelty of the joke played at his expense is never acknowledged by the mistress of the house, Olivia, who is so delighted to find a real male version of Viola (Viola’s brother Sebastian) that she laughs off his imprisonment as callously as her maid Maria.

In its ninth season, the Shakespeare Festival/LA has just taken over the outdoor arena on the VA grounds. Though the site of the theater doesn’t yet look much like a Japanese garden, set designer Douglas R. Rogers and artist Deloss McGraw are able to instill Illyria with magic. The set is dominated by a half-dozen huge African masks, as re-imagined by Paul Klee on a festive day. Two sit near the back of the stage peering out, like Kilroy, and one lies supine, staring up at the sky. Additionally, dozens of tiny masks grin out at the audience from poles, hung amid Japanese lanterns painted as colorful globes. Feathers and netting, emphasizing the nearby sea, make their way into Todd Roehrman’s costumes in imaginative ways.

This is a whimsical and arresting Illyria, as long as the women are the ones holding court.

* “Twelfth Night,” the Japanese Gardens of the West Los Angeles VA Medical Center, Wilshire and San Vicente boulevards, Los Angeles, Wednesday-Sunday, 8:15 p.m. Gates open at 6 for picnicking. Ends July 17. Tickets are required and are available free of charge at all Ticketmaster locations. Canned food donations are collected in lieu of an admission charge. (213) 489-1121. Running time: 2 1/2 hours.