"A challenge of an intricately entangled plot treatment is nicely balanced with fine performance work."

Just like the recent, unpredictable 'supposed' approach to Canadian summer from warm to cold and back again (and wondering what to expect in between), Shakespeare's 'The Winter's Tale' becomes an intricately entangled treatment of a storyline that I had forgotten what is to come. It's been over forty years since I studied the play in my undergraduate years, and I had forgotten how dense the plot is with its exposition.

The play becomes a demanding task for an audience to experience, as it tells a nearly three-hour tale of jealousy, an idyllic childhood (as director Antoni Cimolino writes in his Programme Note), and holds out hopes of reconciliation near the end. A multitude of characters come and go in this: "sad tale best [meant] for winter."  The much-needed laughter, when it occurs, becomes a longed-for emotional release.

'The Winter's Tale' begins at a time when there are beliefs in gods and spirits. The audience is introduced to two lifelong friends, Polixenes, King of Bohemia (André Sills), and King Leontes (Graham Abbey). The former is anxious to return home to Bohemia, but the latter begs him to stay a while longer. Leontes' pregnant wife, Hermione (Sara Topham), succeeds in persuading Polixenes to stay. Leontes then suspects his friend and wife are involved in an affair, and he becomes obsessed with it. As a result, Leontes asks Camillo (Tom Rooney) to poison Polixenes. When Camillo refuses to do so, he warns Polixenes of what Leontes wants. The two men flee, leaving Hermione and her son Mamillius (Philip Myers/George Robinet) to face the ire of the King.

Sixteen years later, through a series of sometimes tangled events, Hermione gives birth to a daughter whom we will meet sixteen years later as Perdita (Marissa Orjalo). Polixenes has a son, Florizel (Austin Eckert), with whom Perdita has fallen in love.

This 'Winter's Tale' is initially a challenge to understand, as it conveys a great deal of narrative through its dialogue. Additionally, Shakespeare creates two different worlds in this text, which is considered one of his last plays. In this year's Stratford production, the interval marks the conclusion of one world and the beginning of the other. Director Antoni Cimolino makes a good choice in placing the break where he does, allowing the audience to digest and reflect on what has just unfolded before them.  I heard some audience members telling others what had gone on for clarification.

Douglas Paraschuk's set and Michael Walton's lighting designs strongly evoke the change in the two environments. Before the interval, the stage is bare, with eight boxes placed side by side and equally distant from each other. There's a sense of cold and frigidity thanks to the dark blue lighting, which accentuates the snow design through the hanging fabric. After the interval, the lighting appears natural for most of the time.  Francesca Callow makes a deliberate choice to incorporate more colour into her costume designs in the second half. Ranil Sonnadara's re-creation of the sound of an approaching storm heightens dramatic tension.

It is the two father figures, lifelong friends, who begin this story of wronged injustices and trivial petulance that nearly tear apart the supposed world of order everyone in their respective kingdoms once knew. Graham Abbey and André Sills remain firmly grounded in their emotional delivery, respectively, as Leontes and Polixenes. There's a mutual sense of dignity and respect at first between the two. However, when that monster of jealousy rears its ugly head, near catastrophe occurs when it is retributive justice that Leontes seeks regarding Polixenes' punishment for the infidelity with Hermione.

Cimolino is an intelligent artist and articulate director and certainly does not allow for this retributive justice to control the land. He wants the funny to shine in the worlds where it's most needed. Three wonderful, noteworthy moments are comical and designed to elicit laughter from the audience. One instance occurs at the top of Act Two when Tom Rooney's Camillo and André Sills are playing a game in which they each try to knock balls out of an imaginary circular ring.  Rooney and Sills ad-lib for a few seconds and have fun, which spills over into the audience. The second occurs when Tom McCamus, as the Old Shepherd, discovers the baby on the beach. The third occurs with the entrance of Geraint Wyn Davies' Autolycus. That's all I'm saying, as Wyn Davies' beloved performance will speak for itself.

The fantastical also becomes a part of both worlds. Lucy Peacock exudes grace in her brief appearances as Time, but there's an inherent sense that her Time marches on in the play and in our own lives as well. While David Collins' Antigonus' dream suggests that leaving the baby on a beach in Bohemia appears to be the right thing to do, he is pursued and killed by a large, unseen, overpowering bear (thanks to Sonnadara's excellent sound effect).

Cimolino writes the following in his Programme Note, which I found interesting:

"If the women and children close to [Polixenes and Leontes] are to avoid becoming fodder for tragedy, they are forced to become heroic…in their strength, intelligence and endurance [to] shape a better world."

In his direction, Cimolino envisions the women and children yearning for a sense of justice in both worlds. Graham Abbey remains terrifying when Sara Topham's Hermione stands before her husband with charges read aloud.  Topham delivers a 'top-notch' moment in her confrontation with the King and court in her defence. Topham remains in emotional control throughout, but her vocal delivery, including pauses and reflections, as well as the modulations of her voice and face, indicate that she is a woman who her husband's accusations have wronged.

Yanna McIntosh's Paulina offers another critical example of women who yearn for a sense of justice. Again, McIntosh's moments with Leontes are chock full of wanting to get the King to see his errors grounded with a ferocity of spirit. Marissa Orjalo's Perdita (who will become recognized as Leontes' long-banished daughter) gives a lovely performance and serves as a reminder that, through time, some things can be possibly and hopefully mended.

But not so fast.

Prepare yourself for the final moment of the play between the young Mamillus and Leontes, especially if you are a parent in the audience. The tableau becomes a striking visual and impactful moment that resonates deeply.  I can still picture this final moment the next day.

Stratford's 'The Winter's Tale' is a moving, funny, sad, and often complex play. It's a good choice to answer Cimolino's final questions in his Programme Note: "What and who do we love?" and "Where do we place our faith?"

Just pay attention to the plot, as it's easy to get lost.

Running time: approximately two hours and 45 minutes with one interval/intermission.

'The Winter's Tale' runs until September 27 at the Tom Patterson Theatre. For tickets, stratfordfestival.ca or call 1-800-567-1600.

THE WINTER'S TALE
Directed by Antoni Cimolino
Set Designer: Douglas Paraschuk
Costume Designer: Francesca Callow
Lighting Designer: Michael Walton
Composer: Wayne Kelso
Sound Designer: Sonnandara
Choreographer: Adrienne Gould

Performers: Lucy Peacock, Graham Abbey, Sara Topham, Philip Myers/George Robinet, Tom Rooney, David Collins, Yanna McIntosh, Katarina Fiallos, Caitlyn MacInnis, Krystin Pellerin, Maria Vacratsis, Emilio Vieira, John Kirkpatrick, Anthony Palermo, Matthew Kwabe, Dakota Jamal Wellman, Paul Dunn, Tarique Lewis, Aidan deSalaiz, Joshn Johnston, Austin Eckert, Christo Graham, André Sills, Tom McCamus, Christo Graham, Marissa Orjalo, Michelle Giroux.