Although I have known of the play Goodnight Desdemona (Good Morning Juliet) for years, and, of course, its famous creator Ann-Marie MacDonald, I’d never actually seen it. I went into the Bluma Appel Theatre on opening night not knowing quite what to expect. And sometimes that’s for the best, as it was on this occasion when I was treated to a fast-paced, campy but thoughtful production.
The concept for the play is fairly straightforward and easy to grasp. It’s a recalibrating of Shakespeare through a feminist lens, asking questions that a common-sense person might ask about the Bard’s most famous works. Why was Othello so easily duped by Iago, and what if he hadn’t killed Desdemona? And what if Romeo and Juliet had been allowed to marry and the clans unite?
Written by acclaimed Canadian playwright, novelist and actor Ann-Marie MacDonald, Goodnight Desdemona (Good Morning Juliet) was first staged by Toronto’s Nightwood Theatre in 1988.
The play follows Constance Ledbelly, an overlooked academic who believes she has discovered that the two Shakespearean tragedies were actually supposed to be comedies. Then, in a fashion similar to another great historical epic, Bill & Ted’s Excellent Adventure (1988), she mysteriously finds herself transported into their worlds, where she sets about changing the course of literary history and the fates of Desdemona and Juliet. Blending Shakespearean parody, romantic comedy, feminist commentary and even a bit of campy farce, the play was an international success, winning the 1989 Chalmers Award for Best New Play and the 1990 Governor General’s Award for Drama. It has since enjoyed more than 100 productions.
This latest Canadian Stage production, running until Nov. 22 at the Bluma Appel Theatre, brings MacDonald back to the role of Constance, which she last played 25 years ago. She’s joined by Carolyn Taylor, best known as co-creator and star of CBC’s Baroness von Sketch Show.
Taylor is also returning to the stage after more than a decade away, taking on several roles, including Othello. It’s an interesting pairing, with the production directed by Alisa Palmer, MacDonald’s longtime creative collaborator and partner.
The acting is superb throughout. MacDonald proves she still has the chops to carry such a major role, while Taylor does a fine job commanding the stage and keeping the comedy front and centre. There’s a natural chemistry between the two, and both seem entirely comfortable with the play’s considerable demands.
The two acts have quite different personalities. The first, which introduces Ledbelly and takes us back into the world of Othello, is more dramatic and perhaps more closely aligned with the underlying premise of the play. The second act, which turns its attention to Romeo and Juliet, leans much more heavily into farce. Pretty much every comedic opportunity is fair game, and the production isn’t shy about going for the laugh. For instance, I never expected to see a pet turtle torn limb from limb, or hear the name “Ro-liet.” If you know what I mean.
At times, the yucks seemed a little too easy, but mostly it was just fun.
Hats off to the featured actors inhabiting this Shakespearean world alongside MacDonald and Taylor: Praneet Akilla, Jessica B. Hill and Caroline Toal. Wonderful performances, all. Equally capable of leaning into the humanity of the play or the comedy.
But beneath all the Shakespearean mischief and theatrical silliness, there’s a more introspective story about human nature and self-discovery. As Ledbelly navigates the rather extraordinary predicament she’s found herself in, she’s really working through questions about her own life, her identity and who she wants to be. And while she manages to change the circumstances of Desdemona and Juliet, she discovers that changing the course of a story doesn’t necessarily change the nature of its characters.
Juliet, for instance, may get her marriage, but her appetite for drama and her romantic fixation with dying for love remain very much intact. Desdemona, too, proves to be true to herself. There’s a suggestion that we all carry different, sometimes contradictory sides within us, and that real power comes not from trying to suppress them but from recognizing and accepting who we are. By the end, there’s a sense of reconciliation, both with ourselves and with the stories we tell about ourselves.
The staging is also spot on. The set is relatively simple, allowing the actors, the writing and the hilariously absurd situations to take centre stage. There’s no need for elaborate distractions when the material and performances are this strong.
I went into this production knowing relatively little about the play and came away genuinely enjoying the story, the acting and, most of all, the insights that lingered long after the curtain closed.
It helps to have a healthy appreciation for the Bard, an understanding of power dynamics and a love of campy, silly stagecraft. Not everyone does.
For me, it’s a very good production and well worth seeing.