Hannah Jones/ Winonan
Few people knew what to expect when they went to “The Venetian Twins,” but regardless, it isn’t what they thought.
Part of this was due to the genre. “The Venetian Twins” falls under a category of theater called commedia dell’arte. The form is mostly known for its outrageous physicality, and in this regard, the cast of “The Venetian Twins” delivered.
Every movement was a grand gesture or a catastrophic fit. Lilly Roe, who played the part of both Zanetto and his twin brother, Tonino, managed to put herself in a different body for each character.
Her portrayal of Tonino: dashing and smart, moving in a series of dramatic flourishes—every so often peppered with a comical slip-up and sheepish awkwardness. Her Zanetto: plainly idiotic, slack-faced, hunched and gawking like a caveman.
The most impressive part of “The Venetian Twins” was the ability of each of the actors to turn themselves into cartoon characters. Their movements were manic; their expressions were elastic.
Arlecchino, played by Adam Calcagno, was Daffy Duck in motley. Every turn found him down on his luck and volcanically furious about it. At periods he physically shook with anger, pulling the biggest Grumpy Cat disgruntled face physically possible within the limits of human skin.
Those who knew Calcagno thought the cartoony commedia dell’arte style fit him better than his jester costume. Senior Margot Friedli was thrilled to see this animated side of him come out on stage.
“It’s very him,” Friedli said. “He’s just being himself on stage.”
Megan Hayes, a mutual friend to both of them, interjected her agreement.
“Adam’s not acting,” Hayes said. “It’s Adam times ten. Plus tights.”
“Times Ten” seemed to be the rule in general for the performance. Not only were emotions and actions pumped to the max, the set and costumes were louder than the actors and the pop culture references saturated throughout the entirety of the script.
Every turn saw a new reference to something topical. The play opened to the Seinfeld theme, there was an alleged Miley Cyrus sighting and even a homage to good old-fashioned 90s public service announcements.
“In Venice, we say, ‘friendship is more important than life itself,’” Tonino said.
The lights dimmed, and there were a few soothing piano notes before Rowan Garrigan, wearing a star costume, ran across the stage, beaming and trailing rainbow streamers.
“‘The more you know,’” Tonino said reverently.
Attendees agreed: the play itself was funny, but the pop culture references made it hysterical. Freshman Emma VanVactor-Lee found it, in a word, “lovely.”
“The references to modern things were great,” she said. “There were a lot more bits than I thought there would be.”
Sophomore Phil Pronschinske also wasn’t expecting to see so much of “the now” in a form of theater hundreds of years old.
“It was sort of balancing the old formal feel with breaking the fourth wall,” he said.
“The Venetian Twins” achieved its surprise by being a marriage of something old and something new, two sides of the same coin that could not be more different, and a complete refusal to take itself—or anything—seriously.
