The Stratford Festival Theatre Review: Sense and Sensibility
By Ross
This is my personal, somewhat roundabout entry into my review of the wonderfully festive and well-produced rendition by the Stratford Festival of the adaptation, Sense and Sensibility, written by the phenomenally talented and witty Kate Hamill (Little Women), and for that, I apologize, but let me explain. Whenever I’m feeling a little worn out or sickly, the cinematic tale of these two at-odds sisters is my go-to curl-up-on-the-couch kind of thing that always makes me feel better than I’m actually physically feeling. The 1995 film is a complete dream-cast production, meticulously directed by Ang Lee and written by its most wonderful star-sister, Emma Thompson, who plays Elinor opposite Kate Winslet’s lovely Marianne. It’s as delicious a movie-telling of this tale as can be, and I will always turn to it in my hour of sickly need.
I mention this because on the day I had planned to start writing my review of the Stratford production, I came down with a bad cold. Not as ghastly as the one dear heartbroken Marianne brings upon herself on the fields looking down at her lost love’s estate near the end of this story (nor as dramatic), but one that led me (or really forced me) to set aside the writing of this review as my head was stuffed with cotton swabs. I had to, as if by law, curl up on the couch to watch the movie version once again, in that I-wanna-feel-good kind of dream state I found myself in, and it didn’t disappoint. Not that I thought it would.
The film is as wonderfully wondrous as always, but, more to the point of this review, Kate Hamill’s version that is now gracing the Festival Stage at Stratford is of a whole different breed, but equally as magnificent, hilariously charming, and fantastically adept, with a witty twist that works its magic on us more times than one can count. Based on that same epic novel by Jane Austen, and as directed with joy and cleverness by Daryl Cloran (Soulpepper’s The Play About The Baby), Sense and Sensibility carries forth this tale of a pair of sisters that we instantly engage with, entangled within a gossipy delivery that mixes the timeless classic with some modern touches worthy of the “Bridgertons” while never disappointing the Austenians. It’s clever and precise, finding all the touching and unique flavors of festivity and clarity that Hamill tends to bring to all of her classic reembellishes like she did with her other Austen off-Broadway hit, Pride and Prejudice, which I just recently had the pleasure to see at the Grand Theatre in London, Ontario.
Our central figure, Elinor Dashwood, lovingly played by Jessica B. Hill (Tarragon’s Paint Me This House of Love), alongside her slightly younger sister, Marianne Dashwood, strongly portrayed by Olivia Sinclair-Brisbane (Stratford’s Something Rotten!), are as different as two young women can be. Each carries with them a half portion of the title, and struggles to understand the other’s framing of romance, especially in the way each expresses heartfelt love and passionate desire. “I think very highly of him. I greatly esteem him, I like him” will always render the romantic heartswell that I love to engage with when I think of the Dashwood sisters and their caring and honest engagement with each others differences, and the way they love the men that come into their lives, specifically the epic John Willoughby, dashingly portrayed by Andrew Chown (Coal Mine’s Hedda Gabler), and the one that always warms my own sensible heart, Edward Ferrars, boldly portrayed by the wonderful Thomas Duplessie (Stratford’s Twelfth Night). Oh, and let’s not forget the quiet and gentle Colonel Brandon, embodied solidly by Shane Carty (Shaw’s My Fair Lady), and his late entry into the wedding game.
Hamill most brilliantly not only delivers these finely tuned characters forward with the utmost care, honoring them perfectly within her writing in regards to Austen’s smart text, but devilishly adds her own ingredient of modern effervescence that elevates and entertains in surprisingly clever ways. I’ve always loved a rolling chair, my companion noted. They always add a certain energy and framing that works, and I couldn’t agree more. As unfolded by these fine actors, the effect is completely joyful, but also emotionally true, and when surrounded by such a solid crew of Stratford actors: Jade V. Robinson (Tiny Bear Jaws’ Smoke) as both young Margaret Dashwood and the surprisingly snide Lucy Steele; Glynis Ranney (Stratford’s Much Ado About Nothing) as both the maternal Mrs. Dashwood and the silly Anne Steele; Sara Farb (Stratford’s As You Like It) as the horribly selfish Fanny (Ferrars) Dashwood and Lady Middleton; Seana McKenna (Stratford’s Les Belles-Soeurs) as the ridiculously lovable Mrs. Jennings and the harder, sharp Mrs Ferrars; and Steve Ross (Stratford’s La Cage Aux Folles) as the engaging Sir John Middleton as well as the caring Doctor; the overall effect is as solid and sincere as it is engaging and entertaining, especially when seated in a conversation chair on wheels. Chown is particularly adept within this unwrapping, playing both John Willoughby and the sister’s half-brother, John Dashwood, in such a solid manner that we didn’t really even make the connection that it was the same human until the final bows.
This production, swaying my emotions in a way that Elinor would not like, risks everything, much like the carefree Marianne. It plays with the classic picture framing, well-formed within the rolling chair set by Dana Osborne (Stratford’s Frankenstein Revived), the solid lighting by Jareth Li (Shaw’s The Orphan of Chao), and the captivating compositions by sound designer Jonathan Lewis, without dropping the essence of what is at stake. Providing something akin to a Greek chorus, the gossips (Christopher Allen, Jenna-Lee Hyde, Celia Aloma, Jesse Gervais, and Julie Lumsden) fill in the gaps and societal commentary with glee, although the costumes, designed also by Osborne, colorfully overstepped their department, distracting us when the five gossips should have just been enhancing and embracing the structure.
But all is fair in love and war, we are told, not by Hamill or Austen, but by that “Bridgertons” narrator who speaks the truth in the same way that this story delivers itself most delightfully into our laps. The expert telling and the fine world-class production chase that bit of blue sky on a cloudy English landscape, much like our romantic heroine, Marianne, would, filling our senses with glee while also connecting most brilliantly to our heart. The Stratford Festival has delivered us this classic, lovely tale, both wisely and wholeheartedly, with such a smart modern stance, thanks to the razor-sharp wit of Hamill, that it becomes completely worthy of this iconic stage and the expert members of the Stratford company. They all dig into this Sense and Sensibility with delight and artful craftiness, making it a joy to behold and a feel-better frolick that shouldn’t be missed.
