Whether Valentine’s Day conjures up dreamy images of couples kissing or simply induces vomiting, there’s no denying that love is in the air — and no twosome represents V-day’s glossed-over, idyllic image of “perfect” ardor better than Romeo and Juliet. After all, the star-crossed lovers did go the ultimate distance for romance. They were willing to die — millions of times, on screens and stages all over the world — rather than sacrifice their passion.
Some historians contend the play dates all the way back to the late 1500s. As cheesy and overdone as the William Shakespeare classic has become in recent years, I must admit I’m obsessed with it — even the bastardized versions. Balcony scenes in ballets leave me breathless. Baz Luhrmann’s urbanized 1996 movie version practically catapulted me (and thousands of other then-hormonal teens) into rapturous convulsions, much to the dismay of Shakespeare purists everywhere. The moment Romeo and Juliet initially glimpsed each other through a bathroom divider/aquarium set my little heart on fire — and still does. The subsequent elevator kiss sends me reeling every time.
My fixation might be embarrassing, except for the fact I know I’m not alone. Famous film spin-offs, lavish theater productions such as West Side Story and never-ending references to the tragedy point to an entire culture marinated in sweet, sweet images of Montague and Capulet. Thus, began my Valentine’s-inspired quest: To find someone who could understand and explain the iconography of our passion.
The search led to assistant professor of theater arts John Schmor. He seemed a logical discovery, given that he is currently immersed in directing the play, “Romeo and Juliet,” which opens April 2 at Lord Leebrick Theatre. Schmor, who has been involved in the theater arts for 30 years, said he has always wanted to work on this production. He has several theories why the doomed lovers have become a cultural mainstay.
“One of (the reasons) is that we don’t have a better rendition of first love than the balcony scene,” he said. “I can’t think of a scene that does it as well.”
He added that a wide range of audiences can relate to the story.
“You can read this play at every age level, from a thousand different vantage points,” he said.
The heart of this statement clicked on a light bulb in my head. Indeed, Romeo and Juliet memories and fantasies peek through layers of experience at every stage of life. As a child, I envied Juliet’s fancy dresses and secret midnight meetings. Adolescence yielded to a different sort of longing: Visions of furtive lips brushing against one another (“O trespass sweetly urged! Give me my sin again”), the defiance of pesky parents, a secret wedding and, of course, sex. Adulthood has lead to the desire — albeit tainted with cynicism — for a love legitimate enough to warrant death. There’s no doubt old age will someday leave me wistfully glancing back to a time when the pair’s plight seemed feasible.
I carry the story with me like a child might hang onto an old blanket for comfort, and I think the rest of the Western world does, too. This makes sense, considering Schmor attributed Romeo and Juliet’s unrelenting popularity to simple familiarity, saying “it’s almost a commodity.”
However, he added that this identification can be dangerous for production directors because people arrive with preconceived notions of the tale. Schmor said his take on “Romeo and Juliet” will be a traditional one, but audience members might not think so. He said he has pared the play down to 12 characters and 21 scenes — what he calls the “main actions and most intense poetry.”
Ahh, poetry. This brings us to another point. Aren’t we all drawn to Romeo and Juliet simply because it is romantic? Schmor said he will direct the play without any kind of romantic fantasy in mind, but most people view the tragedy as a “lovely dream.” He also pointed to the ultimate paradox: The epitome of all love stories ends in suicide.
Schmor mentioned something else that melded all these theories into one: People relate to the drama because they recognize that first love is chained to inevitable doom, whether the result is suicide, as in the play, or simple heartache. It’s a contradiction in itself — naivety, bewilderment, hope and failure all wrapped into one. We always want what we can’t have, and it’s impossible to hold onto the fleeting, desperate exhilaration youthful infatuation brings.
However, the Romeo and Juliet fantasy might be as close as we can get. Find it in a movie, a song or a ballet this Valentine’s Day. But in all its forms, the tale leaves us awash in a sea of nostalgia contradicted by the less romantic reality of adult perspective.
Perhaps Schmor put it best.
“It has to be both a familiar place and a place that’s of the imagination,” he said.