What did a gay, dead-at-29 Elizabethan secret agent who believed that God was a dog contribute to humanity? Perhaps the contents of the plays of one William Shakespeare, suggests Peter Whelan’s new adaptation of “The School of Night.”
The supposed death of dramatist Christopher Marlowe (also called Kit) in a tavern brawl is the subject of “The School of Night,” a psychological historical drama running at the Mark Taper Forum in downtown Los Angeles through Dec. 17.
The play, however, is less about Kit Marlowe’s death than it is about what he has and might have done, both through his writing and political involvement at the time. Structured like a mystery, the play turns what the audience believes to be true into seeming falsities, only to reveal them as truths in some sense after all.
Marlowe, the protagonist, is based on the true author, who wrote such masterpieces as “Tamburlaine the Great” and “The Jew of Malta.” His unorthodox religious views and unavailing pursuit of truth inspired “The Tragical History of Doctor Faustus,” while his gay lifestyle led him to write “Edward II” about the sexually ambiguous British king. Gregory Wooddell gives a sensitive portrayal of a neurotic Marlowe, who constantly bitches about the “dog” in heaven.
According to history, Marlowe was a secret agent for the queen, and was killed by Ingram Frizer following an argument about a tavern bill. His death is another instance of what appears to be true turning false, only to appear true once more. The short answer is that Marlowe’s own paranoia and the ability of the authorities to write the unwritten chapter in his history are so intertwined with each other that it is often difficult to tease out the objective truth.
The drama plays upon the theme of the unavailability of truth by moving between predictable and unpredictable realms.
The ending occurs so unexpectedly that the audience is left to wonder if history has indeed been changed.
At various points throughout the play, Marlowe shows that he is the originator of many of the ideas that are found in William Shakespeare”˜s works. For example, he dreams up the idea of “Othello” while eyeing his mistress Rosalinda with another character, whom he deems Iago.
Later Marlowe suggests that he may be sent to Venice on a kind of witness protection program as long as he can use Shakespeare as his voice to illuminate humanity for the rest of his life.
Like everything else in the play, however, the audience is left to wonder if this scheme was indeed actualized, or whether it was all a dream.
Bill Alexander’s direction of the play is punctuated by spurts of rapid emotional and plot developments followed by periods of calm. Seeing the play is like riding a roller coaster, only to have the seat taken out from under you before the peak.
Some of the highlights of the play come from the pure movement-based theater enacted by Jon Monastero, who plays Harlequin from the Commedia dell’arte. His hilarious attempts to motivate himself to take back his lover from the imposing Pantalone ends with a plea to the audience to show him how hanging oneself can be done. Marlowe refuses to enact the suicide in this play-within-a-play, but we’re not entirely sure whether he’s averse to dying.
Shakespeare also refuses to fake death like Harlequin, and it’s perhaps his survival that has left us with a murky look into the life and ideas of Christopher Marlowe.
Follow the Daily Bruin on twitter for breaking news alerts.
E-mail Luo at rluo@media.ucla.edu.