Romeo and Juliet

There comes a time as a reviewer when you are left to wonder: “Was it the play or was it me? My mood at the moment? Lack of sleep? Impossible expectations? Worries about work? The burrito that might not have been sitting right in the belly?

Lingering long in my seat after the Bowmer emptied, I was wont to wonder: If so much about this production is simply splendid—and it surely is—then why wasn’t I moved?

As I had scribbled in my notebook and marked in my mind, Shakespeare’s poetry was well-served by the actors in this production and was echoed in a consummately rich and poetic rendering of colors and textures and sounds. In fact, “Artistic Masterpiece,” was a phrase I underlined in response to the execution of the set and lighting design. My senses, were greatly gratified.

Yet, when the lives of our star-crossed young lovers were lost, and their families’ ancient grudge resolved, my heart was hardly moved. I wanted to care and cry, but couldn’t.

But why?

I had no issue with director Laird Williamson’s clever decision to shift the tragedy to the 1840s’ California town of Verona where the Capulets and Montagues are landed Spanish families and the Americans are an occupying army. In fact, this setting proved a surprisingly seamless superimposition. Culturally, it was a good fit, providing a most welcome fresh perspective.

And, taken each independently, the casting of both Alejandra Escalante as Juliet and Daniel Jose Molina as Romeo, appeared inspired. At once a little girl and a woman in blossom—Juliet is just shy of her 14th birthday—she carried her beauty with an unselfconscious innocence. And Daniel Jose Molina’s Romeo captured the character’s tragic impetuosity, boyish exuberance and a maturity that could best be referred to as impending.

Both are likeable and both of their performances are well-honed and nuanced—these are fine professionals with a comfort on stage and a great aptitude for the language—yet I could not shake the sense that they weren’t in love, but merely children playing at love. I did not perceive their passion; I did not feel the heat.

And then, there is the context: In Shakespeare’s play, this youthful love, painted in pastels of blue and pink, leaps off a page stained blood red by hate; it is this vivid contrast that elevates these youthful longings to epic proportions. Yet, in this production, notwithstanding the skill of the swordplay, this blood feud between the families feels pale and bloodless.

I did not perceive their passion; I did not feel the heat.

Perhaps this is the answer I was seeking, why the play’s impact was less emotional than cerebral and why the shining stars of this production were scenic designer Michael Ganio and lighting designer Don Darnutzer, and director Williamson for his conception.

The curved adobe wall contoured in a sweeping eye-pleasing arc provides a warm and satisfying container and a particularly dramatic and enlivening setting for the balcony scene.

And, above the wall, gorgeous rear projections of the sky track the compressed time line while drawing from a color palette that echoes the emotional realm in broad impressionistic strokes of genius. The colors alone told this story with perfection.

The pace of the production is swift and sure, the fight scenes are terrifyingly real, and the supporting performances are superb.

As Juliet’s earthy and wise nurse and confidante, Isabelle Monk O’Connor was a hoot; her comedic timing was spot on and the genuineness of her large presence most welcome. Jason Rojas, as Romeo’s rollicking friend Mercutio, with a delectably dirty mind, left no bawdy stone unturned.

The passion that propels this plot to its tragic conclusion comes mostly from Juliet’s father, Don Capulet, played credibly with grand intensity and conviction by Elijah Alexander.

“Romeo and Juliet” plays at the Angus Bowmer Theatre through Nov. 4.