mclaughlin

Actor and playwright Ellen McLaughlin, who originated the role of the Angel in Tony Kushner’s “Angels in America,” has put her own modern spin on ancient Greek dramas. Her “Helen,” a satirical reworking of Euripides’ tragicomedy and the eternal beauty myth, ought to be better known.

McLaughlin’s modern verse “translation” of Shakespeare’s “Pericles” is now receiving its West Coast premiere at Boston Court Pasadena. I’m traditionally more resistant to playwrights fiddling around with Shakespeare than I am with them updating Greek tragedy. Making Shakespeare’s plays accessible is a noble goal, but there are other ways to go about this beyond modernizing the text and diluting its lyrical beauty and nuance.

When actors understand what they’re saying, audiences tend to catch their characters’ drift while absorbing poetry that’s still at the root of the English language. But “Pericles” isn’t a play that should raise purist hackles. There is an authorship question. The first two acts and the final three may have been written by different writers. There’s an assumption that the second half is Shakespeare’s, but scholars continue to quarrel over attribution.

Julanne Chidi Hill, Desiree Mee Jung, Adam J. Smith, Joel Swetow (center), Rio Rasch, Nicole Javier and Alexander Matos in “Pericles” at Boston Court Pasadena.

(Brian Hashimoto)

Whatever the scholarly truth, it’s safe to say that “Pericles, Prince of Tyre,” to give this late romance its full title, is a patchwork. A strange epic yarn ignited by incest and attempted murder, the play is crammed with shipwrecks and miraculous rescues, devastating suffering and last-minute recoveries. I don’t think I’ve ever read the final act without shedding tears. That said, the play requires an extra-strength dose of willing suspension of disbelief.

McLaughlin’s most notable change concerns the frame of the play, which now unfolds in a disaster relief center. The conceit is that the worried and impatient evacuees amuse themselves with an impromptu performance of “Pericles,” of all unlikely theatrical works.

Outside, a monstrous storm rages. Inside, under flickering lights, a group of reluctant strangers is coaxed into acting out, in a converted gymnasium, a wild tale promising redemption from agonizing tragedy.

Randolph Thompson, Nicole Javier, Joel Swetow Adam J. Smith, Desiree Mee Jung and Rio Rasch in “Pericles” at Boston Court Pasadena.

(Brian Hashimoto)

The production, directed by Margaret Shigeko Starbuck, runs with the makeshift energy and comical freedom that this contextual shift allows. The characters aren’t professional actors, so it’s fine for them to wear their masks loosely. Flashlights illuminate darkened spaces. And props are improvised so that pool noodles are used for jousting and an earbud case serves as an engagement ring.

Joel Swetow, in the role of Gower, smoothly marshals the narrative, advancing the story from one delightful implausibility to the next, recapping what’s happened in the meantime and, when necessary, urging some of the more reluctant characters to stay with the performance. He also takes on the role of malevolent and benevolent kings, whom Pericles (an excellent Randolph Thompson) encounters on his tumultuous odyssey.

Most of the lead players lock into their roles once the performance of “Pericles,” the play within the adaptation, is underway. Thompson is particularly skilled at emotionally investing in his character’s plight even as the spontaneous production refuses to take itself too seriously.

Randolph Thompson, Joel Swetow and Nicole Javier in “Pericles” at Boston Court Pasadena.

(Brian Hashimoto)

A little meta-theatrical hamminess goes a long way, and actors in general have a tendency to overdo the joke. I appreciated the restraint that the cast imposes on itself without spoiling the fun. Nicole Javier who plays Thaisa, Pericles’ seemingly doomed wife, and Troy Leigh-Anne Johnson, who plays Marina, Pericles’ transcendentally good daughter born into sorrow, ensure that we care about the fate of a man who trails disaster behind him.

Julanne Chidi Hill, Desiree Mee Jung, Adam J. Smith and Alexander Matos adroitly flesh out the world of a play that sets virtue and vice in neon opposition. Their sporting way of differentiating their roles keep the staging brisk and lighthearted, qualities that are cleverly maintained by a design team that conjures ocean swells with a metallic-looking sheet, royal garb out of contemporary casual wear and a deadly threat from a pocket umbrella.

I missed the rhythms of Shakespeare’s music, though the most compelling poetic imagery in the adaptation is from the original. But the biggest sacrifice, one that is never fully restored unlike Pericles’ grievous losses, is the emotional weight of the play’s climax. It’s hard to allow yourself to fully believe in the incredible turn of events when the prevailing attitude is so emphatically tongue-in-cheek.

Adam J. Smith, Joel Swetow, Nicole Javier, Julanne Chidi Hill, Jamie Gallo, Randolph Thompson and Rio Rasch in “Pericles” at Boston Court Pasadena.

(Brian Hashimoto)

Johnson’s Marina performs with lovely gravitas, as do Javier’s Thaisa and Thompson’s Pericles. But the rollicking jollity that accompanies the final two acts, which includes the entrance of pirates and the abduction of Marina to a brothel, robs the ending of some of its pathos. A touch more solemnity would not have been amiss.

My eyes for once failed to moisten. But I was nonetheless relieved that Pericles’ happy ending is intact — a reassuring sight in our age of successive disasters.