ROMEO AND JULIET: ANTEBELLUM NEW ORLEANS, 1836

's like test-driving a new car. Now that the salesman has put me in the top-of-the-line model and shown me bells and whistles I never imagined, I realize how superfluous most of them are and start thinking about the economy model. Thus it is with this inaugural production at the Boston Court Theatre, a familiar tale moved by director Michael Michetti to antebellum New Orleans. Before the show even begins, we're surrounded by summer chirping, and we say, "Wow, sound design!" (Julie Ferrin and Martin Carillo). Then we notice how much sound design there is. It's easy to envision the duo auditioning the crickets individually. Tom Buderwitz's moody realization of the French Quarter looms languidly before us. We begin to fear ushers are going to start draping audience members in Spanish moss to heighten the effect. Once the show is underway, the keynote is excess. The opening speech, by Voodoo Queen Marie Laveau (Bernadette L. Speakes), is huge—incoherent but huge—while the opening scene has the energy of Times Square without the focus. And, man, is there a whole lotta acting going on up there. Or as Juliet's Dominican nurse (Carlease Burke) would say, "AAHK-ding." Or as the Creole Madame Capulet (Inger Tudor) would say, "ac-TEENG." Or as the vibrantly earnest Romeo (Jason Van Over) would say, "AAAAAC-TIIIING!" Or as the pan-dialectic Juliet (Tessa Thompson) would say... oh, you get the point. And those are the accents we can understand. Stuffing the meter with all those extra Francophonic syllables is no help. The desire to show off every amenity gets a bit out of hand. Drapes, a rose window, and a quite large chandelier bob up and down all evening because any fly gallery, no matter how shallow, is a plus in this town. It gets particularly silly when the chandelier is lowered so a servant can snuff the candles. The candles are electric, of course, and the sight of a man pretending to snuff with one hand while unscrewing bulbs with the other completely upstages the scene. What was no doubt conceived as gentle symbolism comes off as a man pinching out candles and then hitting them on the head. Alex Jaeger's costumes are, as expected, equally elaborate. Things were looking good on the fabric front until Madame Capulet showed up for her own daughter's wedding in a white, off-the shoulder gown. This gave all sorts of hitherto unconsidered shadings to the character and kept me out of the show pretty much until Juliet's happy dagger. Beneath all this nonsense, there's probably a sweet little production, but, oh, the excavating we'd have to do to find it. The Boston Court is a lovely space and a solid plus to the theatre community. I felt I was watching a show-off, though, and not a show. "Romeo and Juliet: Antebellum New Orleans, 1836," presented by and at The Theatre at Boston Court, 70 N. Mentor, Pasadena. Thu.-Sat. 8 p.m., Sun. 3 p.m., Sep. 12-Nov. 9. $28. (626) 683-688