Federico
Garcia Lorca's great modern classic, The
House of Bernarda Alba, has no visible rooster, though males are all that
these women think about.We hear the
men going to work and notice the women sneaking peeks at them through the
windows, and hear the final shot that eliminates all hopes of snagging the one
who is the current object of their desires. But we see only a household of
lonely women frustrated by the rigid social codes of rural Spain and the severe
dominance of Bernarda, the widow who owns their lives. Only Bernarda's crazed
mother, the old lady who occasionally escapes from her room, actually says what
is on everyone's mind: she wants a young man. In Richard Sanger's rather
literal new translation, all that boiling estrogen reflects the oppressive heat
outside.

But the
tone of Tadeusz Bradecki's sensitive direction is chilling. Aided by Teresa
Przybylski's austere designs and Kevin Lamotte's stark lighting (perhaps a bit
too bright in Act II), the play's passion seems almost too bottled up. Patricia
Hamilton's steadfast servant, La Poncia, certainly has warm blood coursing
through her body. But the contentious, beaten-down daughters -- Lynne Cormack's
spinsterish Angustias, Helen Taylor's Magdalena, and Jane Perry's Amelia -- are
wound up tight. As the rebellious youngest sister, Adela, Fiona Byrne produces
fireworks but little inner heat. And Susie Burnett, as deformed sister
Martirio, also expresses cold-seeming anger and annoyance. Even Nora McLellan's
redoubtable Bernarda Alba seems to spit out commands from an icy distance. Her
final insistence that her wanton daughter died a virgin is less a defiant cry
than a stubborn assertion for herself. I like Bradecki's cool control, but I
usually find this tragedy more moving.

G.B. Shaw's
comedy Candida, on the other hand, is
usually more thoughtful and a lot less funny than the current revival, directed
by Jackie Maxwell, who takes over Shaw Festival's artistic direction next
season.

The wise,
womanly wife of an inspiring clergyman, Candida is virtually worshipped by
everyone in his household, which she runs and rules. When Eugene Marchbanks, a
young poet intoxicated by Candida, challenges Reverend James Morell's
complacent assurance about his loving wife and dares him to let her choose
between them, he precipitates a moral storm, a romantic triangle, and the first
violent self-doubts that Morell has ever suffered. Playing with both of them,
Candida drolly solves the dilemma with Shaw's usual irony and wit.

The role of
this female paragon has drawn many leading actresses, if only because it
displays them so appealingly without actually presenting any serious acting
difficulties. Playing Candida, Kelli Fox is, as usual, assured and attractive.
Reverend Morell is almost always good-looking, but sometimes played as the
pompous stuffed shirt that Marchbanks calls him. More usually, he's seen as the
bright, virile icon that his secretary, "Prossie," thinks him. In
either case, his sudden anxiety about his marriage is both comic and touching.
Maxwell has handsome Blair Williams play the clergyman as a virtual deadpan
comic, genuinely feeling the role but downplaying both dramatic and
intellectual concerns with really funny physical "takes."

Mike
Shara's adorable Marchbanks is certainly a rhapsodic poet and passionate young
man in love, but he is also a hilariously awkward stumblebum. At times he seems
a refugee from a farce about teenagers. To indicate that he is upset, he takes
a wild pratfall over the back of the couch, onto its seat and winds up in fetal
position on the floor. Courting Candida, he enthusiastically leaps onto the
arms of her chair, crouching froglike above her with knees parallel to his
ears. That might seem a violation of Victorian style and behavior, not to
mention decorum, but it's an amusingly over-the-top indication of the young
man's spirit.

By
comparison, Laurie Paton's sarcasm and discomfort as "Prossie" and
Bernard Behren's waggish Mr. Burgess, Candida's grumpy, conniving father, seem
to be mere plot devices. Sue LePage's big, rich set and Christina Poddubiuk's
traditional, plain costumes are predictably impressive elements of a major
production. But Candida and her two competing men are the whole focus of this
playful revival. The mysterious "secret in the poet's heart" may get
slighted, along with some social commentary, but this is the funniest Candida I've seen.

Some of
Harley Granville Barker's His Majesty
is satirically funny. Some of it provides intriguing, timely political thought.
But, on the whole, I think this ahead-of-its-time play has been understandably
neglected. Strikingly directed and superbly cast, this production is the North
American premiere of a play completed in 1928.

A kind of
political thriller that, like Shakespeare's Henry
VI, traces the decline of a monarchy and efforts to resuscitate it, Granville Barker's imaginary history
explores the conflicting issues of a Europe trying to survive World War I. In a
quagmire between government by communism, fascism, democracy, and oligarchy, a
charismatic, trusted king represents the continuing desire to preserve a
monarchy. As in Henry VI's more
historical basis, this complex drama centers its sympathy upon the monarch, but
shows his well-intended hesitations as fatal weakness against a field of
treacherous conflicting forces which include a strong-willed queen who
essentially betrays him.

That
complexity makes the play hard to follow. The queen goes against her husband's
wishes, secretly bribes an enemy leader to join in fighting and killing that
the king is trying valiantly to avoid, and causes both the defeat of his army
and the murder of his leading general. He therefore decides that he has no
alternative but to abdicate. The king offers no criticism of her behavior and
instead, saint-like, goes off to exile affectionately with her. I find the
conclusion, which treats them both as sad, sympathetic figures, to be entirely
unsatisfying.

Neil Munro
directs a handsome, inventive production with original music composed by Paul
Sportelli, which, unlike Sportelli's forgettable music for Candida, is tuneful and effective. A sterling cast of 26, headed by
David Schurrmann in the title role, Mary Haney as his queen, and Michael Ball
and George Dawson as his chief opponents, do all that one could ask to make
this drama work.

Shaw Festival:Federico
Garcia Lorca's The House of Bernarda Albaat the Court House Theatre to October 5; G.B. Shaw's Candida atthe Festival Theatre
to November 23; Harley Granville Barker's His
Majesty at the Court House Theatre to September 21. www.shawfest.com 1- 800 511-SHAW.