Ancient Romans loved comedy, and as evidenced by the 30 some comedies that still exist written by the second century B.C. playwright Plautus, they loved the pure entertainment he served up. He satisfied their love for puns, word play, distortions of meaning and other forms of verbal humor that he put in the mouths of the lower social ranks. Programmers of the Getty Villa guessed that modern audiences would respond as enthusiastically when they selected Plautus’ ‘Tug of War’ as the annual play of the outdoor theater summer season. And respond they did on opening night last week. In adapting the original script, translated by Amy Richlin, director Meryl Friedman achieves just the right hilarious pitch to move the plot along. Friedman, who adaped Aristophanes’ ‘The Wasps’ for the Getty in 2005, also choreographed and wrote the music and lyrics for the current production. ‘Tug of War’ was originally called ‘The Rudens’ (the rope), referring to the trailing fisherman’s rope the two slaves use in the physical tug of war for possession of a newly discovered treasure trove. The story turns on a father’s (Valorus) search for his lost daughter (Liplocca), who was kidnapped in infancy, and his subsequent misfortunes that have landed him on a remote farm far from Athens. A storm, stirred up by the gods, reunites him with his long-lost daughter, thereby saving her from the clutches of the villainous pimp (Lupus del Mar) who has enslaved her. Paralleling this story is the constant ribaldry provided by a group of stock characters, who audiences would have recognized as familiar types in Plautus’ comedic arsenal. ‘The clever slave,’ in this case the urbane Deltoidus, with his rustic companion Scupus, ‘the lusty old man’ character, sets the stage, creates the mood, imparts the plot and sustains much of the play’s humor. Plautus warns us that this is a morality tale, and in the prologue, Valorus warns us that he’s keeping track of ‘who’s been good and who’s been a brat. You’re in the book, baby, your bad deeds are enlightened.’ Even though this comedy is a moral tale, depicting the triumph of virtue over wickedness in a world ruled by Jupiter, reverence for the gods is in short supply in Plautus’ universe. When Liplocca is stranded on the island in the care of Venus, she anguishes. ‘ Stranded on a rocky shore with a rundown old priestess, I don’t need a god, I need a man.’ She then segues into a bluesy stroll with the chorus demanding ‘a man with some bunk in his trunk. Venus, send me a man!’ In the early days of Rome, there were no permanent theaters, such as there were in Greece, so the stages were small, and sets were minimal and erected for each performance. As a result, actors were much closer to the audience and were expected to acknowledge them. The intimate size of the Villa’s amphitheater, small stage area and transparent entrances and exits suit the play perfectly. The players talked directly to the audience, liberally breaking the illusory fourth wall, as they admonished the crowd on right behavior. ‘No shouting, whistling, or intrusive conduct,’ we were cautioned. ‘We don’t want to disturb the neighbors who are forced to live around here.’ The audience howled. The cast was terrific, all with substantial credits for stage and film work, and, in the case of Steve Totland (Deltoidus) opera. The musicians, including guitarist Armand Arnazzi, accordionist Gee Rabe and clarinetist Brian Walsh, amplified the humor and sophistication of the production. With no hesitation, I shamelessly recommend to all to go and enjoy this superb musical adaptation of the work of this master of character, plot and humor. ‘Tug of War’ continues at the Getty Villa, Thursdays, Fridays and Saturdays, through September 29. Tickets ($35; $30 students/seniors) are available online at www.getty.edu or at (310) 440-7300.
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