‘Two Cities’ Delights Children and Adults

By PATRICK R. CHESNUT

Crimson Staff Writer



Charles Dickens, Oprah Winfrey, and Scooby Doo might not seem to have much in common, but each made an appearance in the Sunken Garden Children’s Theater’s adaptation of “A Tale of Two Cities,” which ran in Radcliffe Yard from May 5 to 7. Taking its cues more from “Shrek” than from Dickens, the play worked as both a comedic children’s show and a delightful postmodern farce.

The play, co-directed by Mary E. Birnbaum ’07 and Jess R. Burkle ’06, utilized an amusing frame narrative, beginning with a woman’s (Birnbaum) visit to a French barber, Mr. Guillotine (Burkle). In this version, written by Adam V. Cline ’02, it is hair that matters above all else: the luscious hair of the aristocracy is the symbol of their power, and it must thus be cut off by retributive French peasants (“It just didn’t seem fair that some people could afford cornrows while others couldn’t afford corn,” Burkle says).

When it is discovered that earnest and long-locked Charles Darnay (Liam R. Martin ’06) comes from an aristocratic stock, he is detained and set to become the latest victim of French peasants fighting for “liberté, egalité, vengeance.”

As in Dickens’ novel, Darnay is spared by the sacrifice of Sydney Carton (Barry A. Shafrin ’09), who courageously dons Carton’s wig. But unlike the surly Carton of the book, Shafrin’s character—with thick Harry Potter glasses and too-high pants tucked into argyle socks—was cowering and nerdy, a perfect and hilarious foil to Martin’s commanding presence.

Speaking in a finely honed French accent and moving with a deliberate energy, Burkle—whose character also functioned as the narrator—set the tone for the play, holding it together with his just-barely-exaggerated mannerisms and speech. His dialogue was some of the play’s best, managing to be witty without being overly intellectual, and he had one of the best running jokes was introduced—the fear of receiving a mullet.

This all might sound ridiculous—and it was—but the humor entertained the children who were the play’s primary audience. Some of the gags were a little too heavy-handed for a college audience to enjoy, but they were nonetheless redeemed by the children’s laughter.

Just as importantly, however, the play was equally enjoyable for the bigger kids in the audience. The best jokes involved references to all elements of popular culture—everything from “Les Misérables” to James Frey to “It’s Hard Out Here for a Pimp.”

Playing the show as a farce drew out the absurdities just below the surface of Dickens’ melodrama. Indeed, this show wasn’t so much an adaptation of Dickens’ novel as it was a deconstruction of it. Nowhere was this more effective than in the dimwitted Lucy Manette (Chelsey J. Forbess ’07), who was the perfect incarnation of Dickens’ notoriously one-dimensional characters (“So does this mean that everyone can be a good person even if they don’t look like one on the surface?” she asks Darnay in a flat voice).

Certainly, much more meaning could be drawn out from all of this—using the French peasants’ habit of making ridiculous, rhymed slogans as political commentary, for example—but to do so would be to miss the point. “A Tale of Two Cities” was about taking a break from academic analysis, leaving the classroom to sit on the grass with a group of kids, and laughing alongside them as some of Harvard’s most talented actors put on a delightful comedy.

The half-hour-long production was a reminder of the simple pleasure that we once experienced watching Saturday morning cartoons, and in making it possible for jaded, pretentious Harvard students to relive that experience, the play was a much-needed respite—and a great success.

—Reviewer Patrick R. Chesnut can be reached at pchesnut@fas.harvard.edu.