Even before the play begins with a bird crashing into the window of a medieval manor with an explosion of black feathers, one is left with the impression that Faction of Fools’ current production of Jen Silverman’s The Moors may be the most ambitious show since Francesca Chilcote and Kathryn Zoerb took over as co-artistic directors of the commedia dell’arte troupe in 2020. 

Johnny Weissgerber’s scenic design is the most elaborate set I have seen in Faction of Fools’ home theater in Capitol Hill Arts Workshop. Set inside a house in the moorlands of Northern England, the gray stones of the fireplace are threatening to collapse, but the interior walls and passageways seem better maintained; in the foreground, underfoot as the audience enters, is the low-growing vegetation that’s characteristic of the moors; in the background one sees the coastal cliffs and a few beams of sunlight breaking through the overcast sky. It is as if the entire moody landscape—wonderfully lit by William K. D’Eugenio so that the passing hours and changes in the weather are seen on the stones and in the sky—has been fit into the performance space much as the vast interior of Doctor Who’s Tardis can fit inside a blue box.

In the parlor, Agatha (Arika Thames) fusses with the unruly hair of her more self-conscious, literary younger sister Huldey (Natalie Cutcher), when the parlor maid, Marjory (Rebecca Ballinger), informs them that a new governess, one Emilie Vandergard (Jasmine Proctor), has just arrived by carriage. Huldey is excited at the prospect of a new friend—she imagines herself a writer and wonders if Emilie, like her, keeps a diary and if they might share their pages.

Emilie finds her new place of employment confusing: Master Branwell, the elder brother of the two sisters, with whom she corresponded about the position, appears, as befitting a gothic romance, to be either indisposed due to poor health, dead, or possibly bricked up in the attic. She is not introduced to the child she has been hired to care for. Her bed chambers are indistinguishable from the parlor, and it appears that—except for the hat on her head—the scullery maid with typhus, Mallory (also Ballinger), is indistinguishable from the supposedly pregnant Marjory.

Meanwhile the house’s dog, Mastiff (played by understudy Seth Langer on the evening I attended), is a philosophical soul. When not napping, he roams around the estate in a Victorian era waistcoat (designed by Alison Samantha Johnson) waxing poetically about God, a desire for something he cannot quite name and the expansive moors and overcast sky. The dog is a greater wordsmith than his diarist mistress. He encounters a Moor-Hen (Mary Myers)—an anxious bird, bad at landings and afraid of being eaten— with a short attention span and no mind for theology. Yet the dog decides to pursue a romantic friendship with his new feathered companion. Perhaps because they are animals, their developing relationship is far more honest than anything going on inside the manor.

While Faction of Fools has a history of both adapting classic works to the commedia dell’arte idiom, as well as devising and commissioning original works, Silverman’s The Moors is the first time they have presented an already established work by a contemporary playwright. Silverman’s inspiration for a gothic romance parody stems from the letters of Charlotte Brontë. And while it is unlikely Silverman had commedia in mind when composing The Moors, the idiom’s use of masks and stylized physicality, particularly under Chilcote’s direction and Zoerb’s coaching, it’s well suited to the material. Perhaps we could call it “commedia gotica.” 

Ballinger’s Marjory and Mallory cut a stiff figure, head often tilted to the side, always replying to their mistresses in a sarcastic monotone. As Huldey, Cutcher is zany with her delusions of being a literary star, imagining the people of a nearby village curious about the thoughts in her diary, even though, when read aloud, it appears to be as repetitively dull as the most banal of social media accounts. (Cutcher’s performance reminds me of the self-appointed “People’s Poet” played by Rik Mayall in the British comedy The Young Ones.) Indeed, both Ballinger and Cutcher introduce a staccato back-and-forth comic rhythm every time they walk onto the stage. In contrast to the loopy household and fabulistic animals, Proctor and Thames play a little closer to genre conventions as gothic ingenue and villain, who, up until the climax, concern themselves with the etiquette of class, correspondence, and strolls along the moors.

In the midst of this genre-bending parody, Silverman has also co-written a few songs with composer Daniel Kluger though Faction’s sound designer Kenny Neal wrote the arrangements for this show. There’s a particularly gorgeous song for Emilie (Proctor has a voice to match) and bombastic power ballad for Huldey, given the rock-star treatment by Cutcher.

Tara Cariaso of Waxing Moon Masks, who has been collaborating with the Fools since Chilcote and Zoerb took over, has done some of her strongest work for this show. Huldey’s face is wildly asymmetrical, with a permanently curled lip, her mood seemingly changing depending on which side of the mask faces the audience. Outside of a raised eyebrow, Marjory’s mask is nearly neutral, befitting a servant who is best suited toward observing her employers and anticipating their needs. For the nonhuman characters, Cariaso has created helmetlike masks: The Mastiff is given a face with heavy jowls, deep wrinkles, and floppy ears (which are used at times to cover his eyes) while the Moor-Hen has the bird’s characteristic red and yellow bill.

Since its beginning, Faction of Fools has shown that commedia dell’arte techniques greatly expand the creative options for actors, and has allowed audiences to see classic works from a new perspective. With The Moors, the troupe has demonstrated that it’s also a valid approach to the works of contemporary playwrights. It’s remarkable that Silverman, who like other living playwrights, retains rights over their script, understood that the Fools could be entrusted to give the play such a unique spin.

Faction of Fools presents The Moors, written by Jen Silverman and directed by Francesca Chilcote, runs through Aug. 10 at Capitol Hill Arts Workshop. factionoffools.org. $15–$35.