Roger Ebert: “It is more exciting to wonder if you are about to be kissed than it is to be kissed.”

This theory gains new credibility with the current Theatre Downtown production of Shakespeare’s R&J.  The play is a re-write of Romeo and Juliet using only four young, male actors.  Everybody knows, of course, that theatres in Shakespeare’s day always cross-dressed men to play the female parts.  But this kind of casting takes on a special relevance in 2010.  There’s no cross-dressing here – only the audience’s suspension of disbelief.  Walking into this performance carries an atmosphere of tension and excitement.  You can’t help but wonder whether the boys will kiss.  And whether the Alabama Bureau of Investigation will bust in and raid the place.

Former Chief Justice of the United States Supreme Court, Earl Warren: “Everything I did in my life that was worthwhile I caught hell for.”

Being an artist requires courage.  There’s a certain amount of bravery in telling your parents or friends that you want to be an actor, musician, or painter.  (Or: “Mom & Dad, I’m gay….”)  It’s bold for a company to choose an all-male Romeo and Juliet in Alabama – possibly the reddest of red states.  It takes some guts to put yourself so out there as a writer, actor, or artist.  I can only imagine the conversation: I’m going to cast you as Juliet, are you okay with that?  But how else does a guy ever get to say, “Parting is such sweet sorrow”?  Opening up and embracing vulnerability makes a person stronger.

Eugene O’Neill: “One should either be sad or joyful.  Contentment is a warm sty for eaters and sleepers.”

Director J.J. Marrs asks all four actors to play multiple roles.  Each actor maybe had a “best” role.  Michael Walters is a thoughtful, but masculine Romeo.  Trevor Clay is tender and feminine as Juliet, downplays beautifully, and creates one of the best Juliet suicides I’ve seen.  Cody Royce Moore plays a particularly good Friar, but is also a contagiously energetic Mercutio.  Finally, Brett Matthew Blaylock throws himself wholeheartedly into a lot of silly laughs as Juliet’s Nurse.  The production takes full advantage of the cast’s youthful vigor, raw nerves, and undiluted energy.

Why is theater better than the movies?  Because of the real dramatic tension.  It happens right in front of you.  For example, there’s a bunch of choreographed roughhousing in this play.  At intermission, the whole front row talked about how we kept expecting an actor to land in our laps.  Or worried that one of the props would topple over.  But this isn’t a bug – it’s a feature.  Because it’s happening right in front of you, it triggers a different part of your brain.  You’re involved in a way that you can’t be when you just watch a movie.  The kissing isn’t take twenty-three, either.  And there’s always the real possibility that someone will mess up.

Thanks to Billy Ray Brewton and Theatre Downtown for the invitation.  If there are any show photographs or PR pictures in the works, let me know and I’ll put them up.