In 1997 Griffin Theatre joyfully transported "Much Ado About Nothing" to post-war Sicily, making the lovers American soldiers and Italian war brides: Suddenly, everything old was new again. Less convincingly, William Massolia's latest time-traveling adaptation sets "Romeo and Juliet" in Mussolini's Italy, with the Capulets fascists and their hated Montagues a prominent Jewish clan forced to wear yellow Stars of David.
Earnest but never impassioned, the result is less than heartbreaking. Shakespeare's domestic tragedy is hard put to reflect a national one, and to assume that in 1939 the Jews and the Black Shirts were as evenly matched as the Montagues and Capulets is wishful thinking. A family feud is one thing; a culture clash requires a broader play.
Just as problematic are the uneven Italian accents, which threaten to turn weighty lines funny and funny ones unfamiliar. Though they served "Much Ado" well, here they undermine the story's seriousness by recalling Father Guido Sarducci, Chico Marx and "The Godfather" trilogy. (The Jewish impersonations are even less authentic.) Then, the introduction of extra vowels ("I bringa da letter") and such substitutions as "faith" for "idolatry" spoil Shakespeare's unimprovable rhythms and diction.
Director Richard Barletta works harder on clarifying the concept than on molding the underlying passions. This "Romeo and Juliet" is too much of its time. Instead of swordfights between the warring clans, we get loud and crude pistol executions. (Switchblades worked well enough in "West Side Story.") At nearly three hours, the production needs a brisker pace and more pruning (especially Friar Lawrence's tedious summing-up).
Though solid and crafted, the performances refuse to soar. Jonathan Berry's gangly Romeo (the name pompously pronounced like the Alfa Romeo car) and Kori St. Peter's giggly-innocent Juliet are appropriately ardent, but there's no inevitability to their supposedly star-crossed love. Ryan Patterson's likable Mercutio lacks the hot-blooded impetuosity that burns him out long before Tybalt kills him. Providing comic relief only when she leaves, Jann Iaco's Nurse manages to miss every laugh in a combustible role. But, as if to provide a benchmark for the rest, Gail Rastorfer's Lady Capulet rescues her stock character from predictability by reacting with scary spontaneity to every twist of the plot.
An elegant villa with Renaissance frescoes fronting a spacious plaza, the Italianate set, by Barletta and Massolia, suggests a much calmer world than Shakespeare imagined, certainly less volatile than Il Duce's pathetic "second Roman empire."
"Romeo and Juliet"
When: Through Aug. 29
Where: Griffin Theatre, 5404 N. Clark St.