Theater Review: In the Park, a Much Ado About Nothing That Transcends Its Title

I’ve been tough on the Shakespeare tragedies recently, but the comedies are no less rich in potential problems for modern audiences. Start with the interfering gods and fairies, the lusty wenches and dimwit rustics. Then add the disguises and outrageous coincidences. Swallow if you can the identical twins. The cross-gender identical twins. The sum of all this is often twee. Some of the titles and subtitles even put you on notice that the plot mechanics may not stand up to serious consideration: As You Like It. What You Will. The Comedy of Errors. Much Ado About Nothing. Despite its especially dismissive name, Much Ado is actually the outlier in that list. It does feature dimwit rustics, briefly, and one masked dance in which a disguise results in an unlikely misunderstanding. But the rest of the comedy is utterly unmasked: It is purely, intensely, and naturally human. For the most part, the motivations that elsewhere bob on otherworldly currents are anchored here in the heart’s deep bed. The sparring Beatrice and Benedick are not the greatest Shakespearean couple just because of their “merry war,” though the felicity of their wit is unparalleled. It’s also because they have their reasons.