With its manic pace and frenetic exits and entrances, the Reduced Shakespeare Company’s original production of The Complete History of Comedy (abridged) was born for the stage. Streaming online, it appears, is where it came to die. Written by Reed Martin and Austin Tichenor, this show is almost a parody of their other “reduced” productions, playing on the trope of summarizing that which can’t be summarized. The play is framed by the search for the long-lost 13th Chapter of the Art of Comedy by Sun Tzu’s younger brother, Ah Tzu. Using this teach-as-you-entertain modality, and playing on the rules of comedy, we’re taken through comedic forms throughout the ages. There is a “can't-quite-put my-finger-on-it” difference in comedy as portrayed in theatre compared to that portrayed on TV. You might have noticed this if you've ever experienced the disappointment of a screen adaptation of a favorite play. The smartest auteurs maintain the action as happening in distinct planes (just watch anything by Wes Anderson). By doing so they maintain the visual of the entirety of the scene, foregoing close-ups and multiple camera angles. As a result, the action on the periphery or in the background builds our anticipation of the joke. For example, interruptions from stage left or right by the comic actors as the straight man tries to deliver a monologue. Or the hilarity inherent in the constant change of costumes (off-stage) in a production such as this one, with three actors and dozens of characters. Sadly, broadcasting the whole affair loses the raw, visceral excitement of a live production: the possibility that at any moment now, anything might go wrong. Then there is the issue of pace, which drags in both staging and video editing. With regards to the former, the Broadway Publishers version of the script declares a running time of 100 minutes (Theatre in the Park advertises a breakneck 90). Why then extend this to nearly two hours and lose the very thing which actually makes this show funny? Granted, in layering gag after gag with running jokes, farce, stand-up, satire, and the absurd, it’s already almost too much to comprehend. But the magic of these “reduced” works is in maintaining that rollercoaster, actively encouraging the audience to give up trying to comprehend all the jokes at once and just hold on tight for the ride! Then there is the problem when you create a sitcom-style broadcast from a stage production. Cutting between camera angles, especially mid-scene, further slows down the action. You have to re-establish the actors’ relative locations in the frame before proceeding with the joke. It may take a fraction of a second to do this, but all those seconds add up. One vignette in the play, parodying evangelist preachers, illustrates this by switching between camera views that a live audience might never experience -- unless they’re constantly teleporting themselves around the seating area. The end result is a longer and more confusing sketch than was probably originally intended. But if you try to edit more frantically you end up with an illegible mess that audiences may find impossible to follow. Like every fight scene in every Transformers movie ever. Better to leave the camera still and let the production do the work. Which brings me to the audience--probably the most essential component in any staged comedy and yet, thanks to COVID safety measures, almost completely lacking in this one. I say almost, because occasionally we do cut to a fake audience, members of which are sparingly involved, to help liven up some sketches. Nevertheless, this interaction does not make up for the lack of participation by the most important element in a show such as this: the communal, participatory ingredient that allows us all to laugh “with” and not just “at.” However, there is some good news! As a showreel for the comic talents of the three actors, this was uh-maz-ing. Preston Campbell’s innate ability to switch between the perfect straight-man and crown jester makes me want to seek out every show he plays in. Through voice, body, and a range of exquisitely mastered facial expressions, Patrick Whalen utterly owns the physicality on stage. Finally, Ira David Wood IV switches characters deftly and has the replete range of emotions needed to compliment any trio. Their chemistry on-screen reflected this; it was clear that they thoroughly enjoyed the experience of making the show. Kudos also goes to Theatre in the Park for the televisual production values - credit to Videographer Lucas Tran, Sound Designer Benjamin Nason, Stage Manager Yamila Monge and a huge shout out to lead Costume Designer Christine McInnis for the vast wardrobe. The team also managed to do a couple of things on camera which they wouldn’t have been able to on stage, such as Campbell failing to break through a “mime wall” and moments where the trio played to the camera. However, these precious seconds were not enough to lift the show out of the deep humorless abyss which the online medium has managed to plunge it into. If there is anything I have seen this COVID season which illustrates why we need the excitement of in-person, live theatre, this has to be it. -- N. Moeed
Categories:Criticism
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