"a mad-cap farce, boisterous, bawdy..."

Shakespeare and Co.'s production of William Shakespeare's Comedy of Errors is a mad-cap farce, boisterous, bawdy and ingeniously using the staging possibilities of the Founders Theatre to utmost effect.

The thrust stage is backed by a central revolving door, each section differently decorated, one with a triple mirror proving very effective in this play of duplications. On the balcony above, a large sign assures us that all events are happening in Ephesus—in case the zany script might let us forget. Flanking it are a wonderful set of brightly painted, crazily leaning doors with small windows that can pop open at surprising moments.

The costumes range in shades of coral, red and gold into tans and browns with rich fawning goldsmiths in black and a sexy courtesan in white. All are suitable and when needed properly elegant. The supposed look-alike twins (who do not look alike) have costumes enough alike, but not quite alike, helping us keep strait who is which twin at the moment.

The plot is spelled out in a long monologue, effectively delivered by Jonathan Epstein as Ageon, hapless father of all the twins. He enters in chains, having come searching for his boys, but having been arrested since he comes from an enemy city.

His story gives the background of the births of the twins—his own and the adopted pair he bought as babies to be servants to his own. He tells us of the shipwreck that has split up the family into new pairings of twins. To further complicate the plot, he admits that both in each pair were given identical names.

Now, thirty-three years later, Ageon has come to Ephesus seeking his lost children. Only to be arrested and given til sundown to raise ransom money or die.

This is a long tale to set up the plot, and director Cecil MacKinnon, has wisely devised a clever way of having the tale mimed in the background where we see the shipwreck with the two babies bound to each mast.

That accomplished, the zany meetings and mistaken identities can begin. The twins from Syracuse, master Antipholos (Michael Milligan) and servant Dromio (Tony Medina) can land and begin searching for their lost counterparts—(George Hannah and Dan McCleary) who are respectively master and servant in Ephesus.

Since this is zany comedy, no one ever seems to catch on, when mistaken for his twin, this could be a clue to the twin they know to exist. The entanglements that ensue lead us on a saucy romp, at times hysterically funny, played out often in rhyming couplets that are well-timed, fast paced and most delightful when tossed back and forth between two characters.

Ephesus had a reputation for sorcery and witchcraft and in the second act, the situation becomes for a while so maddeningly tangled that the choreography seems to have spun out of control and things get too cute with emanations from below stage erupting into the proceedings before order is restored.

In the large cast of nineteen, all flinging themselves with gusto into their roles, it is hard to choose favorites.

Children will love the two Dromios. They are clowns as lively as those in any circus. This reviewer was drawn to Antipholus of Syracuse, an excellent man, capable (almost) of keeping his head in the midst of all the hysteria. He is well spoken and has an expressive face.

Anne Gottleib as Luciana is an especially charming character with whom this visiting (unmarried) Antipholus eventually pairs up, she having paired with him earlier in bed, somewhat by mistake.

Elizabeth Aspenlieder as the feeling-much-abused wife of the resident Antipholus is required to berate, bewail, become strident, but is delightfully charming and bawdy in a teacup with the wrong twin from Syracuse.

Both Dromios are physically agile, likeable and much alike, adept in their couple ping-pong dialog and full of wit. They are appealingly accepting of each other as they end the play.

As the goldsmith’s assistant Angelo, Jason Asprey creates an elegant prissy creature with a marvelous dialect that provides more ways to pronounce the word “chain” than one would believe existed.

Music by the Cape Verdi composer, Bau, is effective and charming, making a bridge between scenes and providing music for the dances. By the play’s end, the music sets the whole audience spontaneously clapping in rhythm.

This is a family play full of color, activity and surprises. Any bawdy humor is handled with discretion. Bring the kids.