My overall impression
Let’s get this out in the open: I don’t think the concept of Romea and Julian works. I really like my iambic pentameter (I am of the pretentious ilk that went to school for theater), and the syllabic switching between “man” and “woman” and other various gendered words in the Bard’s script didn’t sit well with me.
Would I be down for a cross-dressed Romeo and Juliet, with all the male roles played by females and vice versa, but the script remaining unchanged? Oh hell yes. Doing so might make this production of R&J work better too; as it is currently, director Abby Craden is trying so hard to convince the audience that Julian is a dude and Romea is a lady, and the effort is a bit too evident.
That being said, given how many actresses there are in Los Angeles, swapping the genders of the roles does make a lot of sense, and gives these women a chance to shine in meaty roles that aren’t the same Shakespearean women everyone already knows. It’s easy to forget how much of a sausage fest his shows could be—even the romances, which are about an opposite-gendered couple, unlike the histories, which focus more on bros being dudes. It’s great seeing that many ladies up on stage.
But the conceit of the production aside, there are some problems with the show. Lines are too often lost in the echoing concrete box of a theater where the show is performed, and much of the drama feels overwrought—though, to be fair, Romeo and Juliet is inherently melodramatic (it is about middle schoolers in puppy love, after all). Still, many of the dramatic moments feel too large, given the size of the space.
R&J‘s saving grace is the chemistry between the two leads. The relationship between those kids is central to the plot, and if the audience doesn’t believe they’re passionately in love/lust for each other, it’s hard to care about any of the consequences of their relationship. But Mary Ellen Schneider’s Romea and Dane Oliver’s Julian do seem wild about each other, and that grounds the story.