Enthusiastic Reduced Shakespeare Company overdo scattershot humor

The Reduced Shakespeare Company gives a warning with each of its performances. It is a high-speed, roller coaster-type condensation of Shakespeare’s plays and therefore not recommended for people with tricky hearts, weak bladders, and other iffy ailments.

I feel I should give a warning about my review, too.

In writing about the “RSC,” I will be forced to break one of the unspoken no-no’s of punctuation in newswriting. I plan to use no fewer than a dozen exclamation points to describe the performance of this three-man troupe Saturday night at the Maine Center for the Arts.

So be forewarned!

These actors are wildly raucous! Such energy! Such facility!

They promised to do all of Shakespeare’s work in just under two hours, and they did it in their own kooky way.

The 10-minute “Romeo and Juliet” was a circus of sight gags (a la the Three Stooges, Monty Python and nearly every sassy sitcom on TV for the past five seasons). “Othello” became a rap song complete with MTV music video moves. “Titus Andronicus” took the form of a cooking show on how to make rapist pie. All the histories were squeezed together as a football game with King Lear disqualified for being a fictional character. The comedies endured a similar fate as one ranting riot of laughs. And the second half of the show was an audience participation version of “Hamlet.”

Wildy raucous again! And the energy! The elan!

But what could you expect from Reed Martin (an ex-clown), Austin Tichenor (a Californian) and Matt Croke (a terminal teen)? They are on a providential mission to get a copy of Shakespeare’s works in every hotel room in the world, and, until then, all the world’s a stage where they pull on wigs, play patty-cake, and rib the people in the first row all in the name of the venerable bard of Stratford.

The audience Saturday night was in uproarious laughter, especially when these clever cleavers included a joke about Lorena Bobbitt, or when Tichenor said “I love my Willy” and then pulled a copy of a Shakespeare play from the crotch of his pants.

Now that’s really funny! Almost as fun as watching mindless, sex-crazed TV!

Or as these guys might say in their hackneyed humor, “Not!”

Yes, there was some admirable physical humor, and these guys obviously know their Shakespeare. But the routines could be tiring — not to mention tired. Like some adolescent humor, the quick shtick was sometimes funny but often just under the line of bearability. To ugh or not to ugh! More poetry! Less acting!

Riding the glory of the good name of Shakespeare, this vaudevillian-like company has found an eager forum for its stand-up routines. Unfortunately, the performers overuse the exclamation points of acting.