The production's biggest stroke of genius was pairing Rachel Dratch and Jeff Hiller, two performers who are able to wring laughs out of thin air. After discussing it with my boyfriend and sleeping on it, THAT is the lasting impression I got from the show. But, as others have said, their parts are very small- esentially two short scenes (though the second offered the wittiest costume in the show: pajamas modeled off of academic robes).
The rest of the show is scattershot in focus: the first twenty minutes heavily focused on Don Armado, then the rest on Berowne, with a sidetrack to the working class side characters, then to the nobles but mostly Berowne- the play is like this, too, but if you're going to adapt at, you have the liberty to focus the text. As it stands, the women are shortchanged entirely, as are Lords Doumaine and Longueville. As great as "Love's a Gun" is, why does the unexplored side character of Jaquenetta sing it? The sentiments expressed aren't exclusive to her. The Princess could sing it, or Rosaline- actual main characters who need more depth.
The show's centerpiece are the songs for the King and his Lords to sing as they're composing love letters and realizing they're in love. This is when we get Lucas Near-Verbrugghe in Elizabethan garb, Bryce Pinkham in a sequined vest and matching short shorts leading a tap chorus line of cherubs, and Daniel Breaker in a mesh tank top dragging an audience member on stage and seranading her. None of it is earned. Near-Verbrugghe is, I guess the nerdy Lord and Pinkham the jocky one? That's all we get, really.
It all comes to a head in that climactic number in which a marching band comes on stage. A full marching band, several dozen strong. And then a poor grad student dressed like a cat from Cats comes on (because Moth sings a song about loving cats, or possibly loving to eat cats?).
The production reaches it strongest, most affecting point immediately after this high-water crazy point. Suddenly, all of that ironic excess is gone and we are left with a straightforward presentation of the last scene, in which all the romantic wooing is rendered useless as the Princess receives news of her father's death and leaves with her Ladies. No postmodern touches, no commentary, no one on a Segway. Just storytelling. And it works. It works better than nearly everything in the one hour and forty minutes before it. And I just wondered, "Why all the rest of the over-directed, over-indulged nonsense?"
That being said, the performers are all strong. All of them! I just wish they had more to do and better things to do.
The production also is oddly class-conscious, with a song delivered by Costard, Dull, and Jacquenetta about how the rich suck (with a very direct barb toward the fact that many buy their way into premium Delacorte seats). The song is actually a highlight, clever and catchy. There are also other lines that indicate the main plot (learned nobles sequestering themselves and the hijinks that ensue when lady nobles test them) is "rich people problems." An interesting commentary that also devalues the already emotionally tenuous plot and is a tad absurd coming from the Ivy League-educated Alex Timbers who is directing a show and saw fit to include a full marching band.
Overall, I am reminded of a high school teacher I had who wouldn't eat salad because the different textures of the ingredients bothered him. I thought that was overly neurotic until I saw this show, which is nothing but different textures that ultimately cannot cohere. Every passing fancy in the rehearsal room seems to be on that stage. Every request granted. Every stoppulled out. How could anyone have been in that rehearsal room and not said, "Um, no, you don't get a Segway and a golf cart and a Jellicle cat."
"...everyone finally shut up, and the audience could enjoy the beginning of the Anatevka Pogram in peace."