A mustached Juliet? Seminar Hakibutzim offers gender-fluid Shakespeare production - review

Maayan Even’s production of Romeo and Juliet (Romeo veYulia) at Seminar HaKibutzim is a delightful protean delivery of the Shakespearean classic. The human hands of the actors fulfil multiple stage-functions as a raised middle finger becomes a jabbing saber, two splayed fingers placed near the temple represent a mask, and a thumb peering from a clenched fist is a tumbler of deadly poison.

In the play, Shakespeare poses the question of what’s in a name. “O Romeo, Romeo,” Julia famously asks, “wherefore art thou Romeo?” She then offers him to refuse this arbitrary label. If Romeo is not Romeo, she can marry him. It is his identity that places him in the category of an enemy, a member of the Montague family, whereas Julia is a Capulet.

The amorous young man is happy to reject his name, but this quickly leads to a problem. When Julia asks him to swear that his affections are true, Even has him explain that, without a “Romeo” – having no name – there is no one there to make such promises.

Just as the empty hands transform to stage functions, to vanish when the hands relax, so do the actors become their characters when a tutu skirt or claret-colored cape is placed on them. A heavy-set, black-bearded thick-voiced man (Roy Hirsch) becomes Julia’s nurse when he dons a shower cap. A lithe woman (Tal Perlman) becomes Tybalt, a jeering thug who slays Mercutio, simply by having a feathered cap placed on her head.

Hirsh excelled in delivering a comic prattle, a Shakespearian bundle of a servant’s wisdom, wrapped up with a fantastic stage presence. Perlman nearly stole the scene as Julia when she repeatedly warned Romeo to clear off before he is killed.

This mutability is further explored during scenes when Julia is played by a man, then a woman, then a man again. This allows not only gender-switching from scene to scene, but also to have two actors switching their respective roles mid-scene.

Continuation of human articulation

The continuation of human articulation on stage is what makes these rapid changes feasible. Even’s ability to guide his actors in precise, split-second timing as they morph roles is commendable.

The earthy, obscenity-laden adaptation reminds the ear of the late Meir Wieseltier, who followed a similar line in his own translations. The actresses shone as they assumed the roles of crude aggressive soldiers of both houses as they patrolled Verona, Italy, and mouthed off with original slurs such as Koksipot (a mash-up of Coccinelle, a slur for trans-women, and the female sex organ).

The play is introduced to the audience by a frame-story. A married couple (Mika Zak and Yonatan Shimony) attempt to explain the play to us. As they do, the cracks in their own romantic relationship become noticeably larger. The surprising resolution of this conflict is a powerful meta-theatrical comment on love and Western culture.

Just as a role can be split, it can be multiplied. During one key scene, Lord Capulet (Julia’s father, here played by Dafna Agmon) forces Julia to yield to his will and marry Paris, not Romeo.

Julia’s pain – being just 14 years old and forced to marry against her will – is multiplied and amplified as her anguish is mirrored by fellow actors and actresses who assume her role, wailing in pain.

Agmon inhibits all the might of patriarchy in this scene and drags her daughter across the stage by her hair. The scene also helps us understand why Julia prefers to die rather than submit.

After Tybalt slays Mercutio, and Romeo slays Tybalt in retaliation, the actors present us with a twisted, mashed-up version of “A Song for Peace.”

A tearful Romeo, now a murderer who must flee from his home, joins the cast as they remind us, again, that “the loftiest prayers” will not bring the dead back.

As war rages, this is one Shakespearian performance not to be missed.

Romeo VeYulia, presented until Saturday, September 14. Sunday to Thursday at 8 p.m., Friday at noon, Saturday at 9 p.m. Hebrew only. Adults only. 9 Ehad HaAm St. NIS 60 per ticket. Call (03) 690-2337.