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William Shakespeare’s As You Like It is often considered one of the Bard’s most palatable pieces, filled with happy marriages and political stability. The plot, however, hinges on light-hearted deception. The main characters, Celia and Rosalind, conceal their nobility and disguise themselves as young peasants to escape the persecution of tyrannical Duke Frederick.
Cultural provocateur Cliff Cardinal, a Lakota playwright and actor, juxtaposed these notions of deception and palatability in his show, As You Like It, A Radical Retelling. In a twist on the original Shakespeare play, the show centers experiences of Indigenous people, forcing the audience to confront America’s colonial history and question the function of land acknowledgements. Cardinal’s version of the play took to the MainStage of the ’62 Center for Theatre and Dance on the evenings of Feb. 21 and 22.
Cardinal considers himself a modern “bouffon” — a term in French theatre for a satirical, mocking character — playing with the audience’s trust and even insulting them in the service of addressing contemporary issues faced by Indigenous people. “We’re building a relationship with the audience to then betray that relationship over and over again, because that’s the way it is to be Indigenous,” Cardinal said in an interview with the Record. “It fits really well for us because we’ve been lied to. Hell, I’ve been lied to.”
Taking inspiration from Shakespeare’s interactive performances at the Globe Theatre in London, Cardinal’s performance relies on audience participation, but with a sardonic twist. Cardinal goads the attendees, often speaking directly to them. In response to an audience member falling asleep only 15 minutes into the Friday night performance, he asked, “Is my land acknowledgement boring you?”
Cardinal incorporated biting, regionally-specific insults into every performance. On both Friday and Saturday, he addressed members of the Berkshire Hills Country Club in the audience, saying, “By the way, congratulations on the Apartheid.”
His remarks during the performance also probe broader systems of subjugation and perversions of power. A common subject of Cardinal’s is the Catholic Church’s sex-abuse scandals at residential schools. “The church is an organization full of cowards and Catholic pedophile priests,” he said, repeating the refrain throughout the night.
During the show, Cardinal said he emphasized audience engagement as a means of bridging the divide between Indigenous and non-Indigenous people. “We otherwise don’t have a relationship between [the]Indigenous community and the rich-ass fucking patrons who show up here to see to see this show,” he said
When Cardinal asked for a show of hands of those who had listened to music or read books by Indigenous people, the crowd was mostly silent and still. When he asked how many audience members had ever had an Indigenous person over to their home, even fewer raised a hand.
Cardinal’s commentary perturbed some audience members, prompting several patrons to leave during both showings. Despite his caustic language, he ultimately considers his work unifying. “People came out of their houses, and they sat here and listened to a Lakota person speak on that stage, probably [for] the first time in history,” he said. “That is a very uniting thing. They leave, they come out being pissed off. That’s fine, but we are now united in ideas to be pissed off about.”
The performance balances provocation with persuasion. “It’s a performance challenge for me every time, to win over as much of the audience as I can,” he said. He compares his on-stage aggression to a staged fight. “70 percent of the audience would taste blood, and it would look like a sword fight,” he said. “But if you’re sitting too far to the side, you can see that the sword missed by six inches. It’s the same thing here. There are some certain people who are too close to the subject or too racist to get into it.”
Toward the end of the show, Cardinal pays homage to the industrious women of his own family who have fought the crack cocaine and methamphetamine epidemics in their community. “They are the spirit that has kept my people alive,” he said. “Mean. Sexy. Strong.”
As the show progresses, the content becomes increasingly somber. “Do you know what they call Indigenous women in Manitoba and Alaska?” Cardinal asked, referencing the staggering rates of sexual assault, trafficking, and murder of Indigenous women. “Biodegradable.”
To end the play, Cardinal faces the audience with a final address. “We are all related. We are supposed to be family,” he said. “But we’re not. And it breaks my heart. It kills me.”
Cardinal recognized that, like all good theatre, his play demands that the audience engage with emotional intensity. “We’re looking for most of the audience to go on the journey and find revelry in breaking the rules and transgressing what is normal and safe,” he said. “For anyone who does hear my stories or my songs, and makes them part of the fabric of [their] reality on this brief walk through life, it means the world to me.”