Why mount Shakespeare’s seldom performed A Winter’s Tale? Better yet, how can anyone possibly stage one of Shakespeare’s most problematic (as in flawed) plays without it seeming downright ridiculous? Variations of these questions have lingered long in the mind of Key City Public Theatre’s 20-year Artistic Director, Denise Winter, who has wanted to present it here ever since she worked on it over 10 years ago.

The play’s weaknesses, which include multiple cases of magical intervention and one too many coincidences, are glaringly abundant. Within minutes of his entrance, King Leontes of Sicily transforms from a reasonable man into a raging madman. Shortly after seeking to prolong a nine-month visit from his lifelong friend, King Polixenes of Bohemia, Leontes is convinced that his wife, Queen Hermione, is pregnant with Polixenes’ child. After he enlists his cupbearer, Camillo, to poison Polixenes, he imprisons Hermione, who gives birth to a girl in jail.

From there, we go to divine intervention via an Oracle, the death of Leontes’ son and wife, and the removal of Leontes’ “bastard” baby girl to a beach in Bohemia. Once found, the infant is renamed Perdita.

At this point, tragedy quickly transforms into what some consider comedy. After 16 years, Florizel, Polixenes’ son, has fallen in love with Perdita. Class-wise, the difference is too much for Polixenes. Florizel and Perdita escape to Sicily, and everyone starts chasing everyone else. 

Eventually, Leontes discovers that his long-lost daughter is about to marry the son of his long-alienated friend, Polixenes. Then even more magic transpires. The ever-bold Paulina, who defies multiple men at the start of the play, reveals a statue of the wronged Hermione. Through Paulina’s spell, the statue comes to life. Leontes and Hermione are happily reunited, Florizel and Perdita wed, and there’s another marriage as well. How sweet is that? If you want more, search out The Shakespeare Birthplace Trust’s hilarious online animated video plot summary.

What does Winter do with all this? While most characters’ names remain the same, bastard daughter Perdita becomes bastard son Perdito (Gabs Nathanson), and son Florizel becomes daughter Florizell (Bry Kifolo). Since both actors use the non-binary pronoun “they,” audience members who know the plot may get maximally confused as they try to figure out if they’re witnessing a lesbian romance or something else entirely.

Language-wise, we discover direct quotes from Shakespeare interspersed with modern idioms. It’s like an Easter egg hunt, with bonus points for anyone who can discern which from which and what from what.

Winter cleverly transports the action to the wine country of Sonoma, California. Smart phones are the order of the day, along with a bar, hot tub, just enough nudity to make several opening night audience members gasp, a fabulous and perfectly judged contemporary soundtrack by Dalin Costello, what seems to be a disco or karaoke party, and an interlude at the free-wheeling Renaissance Faire.

A lot of the action takes place around a bar where people sling alcohol and pills, smoke weed, and more. When the hot tub replaces the bar, so much goes on in and around it as to lead one audience member to mutter, “Where’s the mermaid?”

The more alcohol and drugs some characters consume, the angrier they get. Not very good pills, that’s for sure. Ultimately, the angry interactions are far more soap opera than necessary. Why cheapen Shakespeare’s creation, flawed though it may be?

Much of the noble grace and language that Shakespeare granted Hermione (Rosaletta Curry), Paulina (Kat Agudo), Camillo (Andrew Yabroff), Polixenes (Brendan Chambers), and even the crazed Leontes (Geoffrey Simons) is replaced by coarse colloquialisms. Shakespeare may have granted the defiant Paulina considerable power, but Winter and Agudo turn her into someone who, like certain operatic tenors of old, sobs, whines, and gasps far too much. Some actors seem like a cross between teeny boppers and Valley Girls gone amuck; others are borderline amateurish.

There’s even more, of course. In a staging like this, less is more has no place. Some of it is quite laugh aloud clever. Clever enough, and joyful enough, to make the denouement more than worth the price of admission.

When all is said and done, Simmons and Curry shine. Simmons may overdo Leontes’ anger in the first part of the play, but his gravity and bearing in the second half elevate the proceedings to an entirely new level. Once he reappears in Act Two, everything shifts. It’s a masterful performance.

Curry, too, does quite well, and her magical transfiguration is expertly handled by Corvus Crafts. The scene may seem a bit too Las Vegas lounge act reconfigured, but it’s ultimately a joy. Which, when all is said and done, is exactly what Winters’ The Winter’s Tale delivers in spades.

Jason Victor Serinus, a critic of culture, music and audio, lives in Port Townsend.