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February 22, 2015

Sommeliers, please advise: Which wine pairs best with simmering sexual jealousy? What digestif should you serve to a romantic rival? Vinous questions bubble up during Michael Sexton’s production of The Winter’s Tale at the Pearl Theater. The first three acts play out at a tipsy dinner party that could rival Disgraced for discomfiture. At least these Shakespeareans make it to the dessert course before things go seriously awry. In a handsome if hodgepodge dining room (courtesy of the set designer Brett J. Banakis), the Sicilian king Leontes (Peter Francis James) entreats his pregnant wife, Hermione (Jolly Abraham), to convince the Bohemian king Polixenes (Bradford Cover) to stay a little longer. But jealousy, that green-eyed monster, has got Leontes in a stranglehold. He’s convinced himself that Hermione and Polixenes have cuckolded him. So he accuses and imprisons his wife, imperiling her and their boy, Mamillius, and their unborn daughter. Anyone for seconds? Mr. Sexton’s production is elegant, inventive and visually interesting. Bohemia’s seacoast is conjured by shifting and dust-sheeting most of the furniture. The famous bear is summoned in a riot of fur coats. And yet, blame the weather, blame the title, blame the Pearl’s location on an especially frigid block on West 42nd Street, but this staging sometimes seems chilly, too.

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