Shakespeare in Clark Park presents Jay Eddy’s A Bottom’s Dream

Over the past two decades, the troupe has staged productions of the Bard’s tragedies (from Romeo and Juliet to Pericles) and comedies (like last year’s As You Like It). It has also resurrected adaptations from the 17th century (2022’s The Taming) and the 1970s (Galt MacDermot and John Guare’s Tony Award–winning musical Two Gentlemen of Verona).

A hug and a wink

This year, A Bottom’s Dream (conceived and written by Richard Rodgers Award–winning artist Jay Eddy) blends the chaos, magic, and confusion of Shakespeare’s Midsummer with a queer aesthetic that feels both nostalgic and contemporary.

Planned before the 2024 election, this production (directed by the company’s artistic director Shamus) feels like a hug and a wink in the midst of the constant attacks on both the arts and queer people.

Shakespeare’s comedies are not exactly known for their clarity to contemporary audiences, and A Bottom’s Dream doubles down on the trope of mistaken identity. In Eddy’s telling, the “Rude Mechanicals” acting troupe within Midsummer is actually presenting the story of the four traditional lovers, as well as the conflict between the Fairy Queen Titania (Philly drag legend Lili St. Queer) and King Oberon (Rayne). The meta-dramatics of the play-within-the-play can become a bit taxing, especially if you're focusing too hard on sorting it all out. But when you relax and let the chaos wash over you, you’re in for a real treat.

To further queer the text, Eddy has gender-swapped two of the four lovers: Lysander is now Lynsandra, and Helena is now Helenus. It’s a nice touch that, frankly, fades into the background, as queerness here feels like a given, soaked into the very ethos of the work.

Fun, physical, funky

The company, every one of them, is up for both the language of Shakespeare’s text and the frenetic camp of Eddy’s adaptation. Camille E. Young is a hoot as both the self-centered showboat (turned literal ass) Bottom and the lover Lynsandra. As her romantic foil, Amy Boehly is a delight as Hermia and the gore-loving actor Flute. Leo Mock’s Demetrius is appropriately laid-back and clueless. I even got the chance to be near him as he ad-libbed in character with fellow audience members when he spotted a cat on a leash. Helenus (Dante Brattelli) is lovesick and wonderfully physical, perfectly embodying his character as he runs toward, and then away from, Demetrius.

The lovers’ chaos is caused by Philostrate (Rayne), who is in love with Lili St. Queer’s Rita Prince. They both double as the fairy king and queen. Rayne opens the show with an electric performance of a funky rock number, “My Mistress is Enamor’d of an Ass.” In many ways, the show feels built around St. Queer. Their costumes, musical numbers, and comedic bits punctuate the show with verve. It’s impressive, then, that Jenna Kuerzi manages to steal the show whenever she's on stage. Her transformation from the sheepish Snug to the mischievous Puck is grounded and magnetic. Her singing voice, which is saved for the very end, is stunning.

A musical feat

The musical numbers, written by Eddy, are well placed throughout the show and give the company moments to showcase their many talents. The original music is tuneful and meaningfully evokes Donna Summer, ABBA, and Chappell Roan. It is performed to a backing track, which gets the job done, though future productions of A Bottom’s Dream would benefit from the energy and depth a live band could provide.

Beatrice Quinn’s music direction and Jessy Gruver’s choreography make the most of the show’s aesthetic and the natural constraints of outdoor performance. Sound designer Gage Baker and the three audio engineers (Drew Mangione, Will Lazar, Teresa Burns) manage to make the entire company audible over a nearby playground full of children, with minimal technical issues.

A perfect midsummer night

True to the spirit of the company’s mission of outreach, A Bottom’s Dream opens with the youth ensemble performing “A Wall in the Garden,” a musical number that tells the story of Pyramus and Thisbe (the play-within-the-play that typically ends Midsummer).

At a tight 90 minutes, the show is perfect for a joyous midsummer night, and it’s free and open to all (no tickets required; bring your blankets, chairs, and a picnic). There are buckets and QR codes for donations, as the company works toward its $20,000 fundraising goal to continue this grand Philadelphia tradition.