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Marlowe

nytheatre.com review by Pamela Butler
August 15, 2005

Christopher Marlowe—activist, rebel, poet, and dramatist—died at the young age of 29, killed in a brawl, or so it is said. Bailiwick Repertory presents Harlan Didrickson’s Marlowe as the victim of great Queen Elizabeth I; perhaps because she is a jealous woman, perhaps because Marlowe is a political liability, perhaps both.The theater is hung with heavy mist as we enter, feeling like a cool, dark cave, sounding of period music, and setting the tone for a 16th century drama. Tom Osbourne’s lighting adds to the effect perfectly, and as the play begins we are in damp London Town hundreds of years ago awaiting the story that’s to unfold.We soon come upon the young Marlowe with his fellow university pals, drinking and bantering in a London pub, discussing graduation. Marlowe will be deprived of his diploma because he has broken the rules of attendance. This is no small matter to our egocentric hero, who believes in his genius and entitlement and demands and finally gets his due reward for all his study by imploring his Queen’s help. It was because of her after all that he was out of town, in France, uncovering plots against her life.What follows is a classically Byzantine layering of intrigues, loves and jealousies, and struggles for power and immortality. Marlowe here is a lover of men and is equally loved and reviled by those surrounding him. He has a quick tongue and temper, running afoul of the law on more than one occasion. He is always saved by his lovers and friends until the end when he becomes too uncontrollable even for them.Throughout we are treated to Marlowe’s own words, from his famous poem "The Passionate Shepherd To His Love” (which begins “Come live with me and be my love”) to scenes from Tamburlaine, Dr. Faustus, and Edward II, deftly running through the action; drama enhancing drama.The costumes and masks by Kerith Wolf are wonderfully rich. The fight choreography by Erik Peterson works well for some pretty ugly brawls, and the scenes themselves have a tableau-like quality as if from a Dutch master’s brush (David Zak is the director). But Timothy Hull seems miscast as the brilliant young dramatist: I could not get past his modern haircut and sheepish American grin. He just looks like a surfer at a costume party and he doesn’t project the ego of a man like a Marlowe.And the action is a bit muddled, perhaps trying to tell too much in the two hours given. Other performances are uneven, with exceptions being Julie Partyka, illuminating a complex Queen Elizabeth; Rian Jairell as the faithful and straight Watson; James Bould as the has-been dramatist, Kyd; and Kevin Mayes as the unctuous, pandering Walshingham.My theater companion liked the play but kept asking questions about just what was happening. My suggestion was not to worry about it and just enjoy the show.