Theatre Review: Born With Teeth

Marlowe’s mad and Shakespeare’s sad in Austin Playhouse production

Reviewed by Cat McCarrey, Fri., April 12, 2024

Bailey Ellis (left) as William Shakespeare and Ismael Soto III as Kit Marlowe (photo by Steve Rogers Photography)

If you get too many English literature scholars in a room together, guaranteed they’ll fight about one question: Who wrote Shakespeare’s plays? Because it’s somehow unimaginable that a humble actor from the countryside could pen lasting works of staggering wit and soul. One popular take is that Kit Marlowe, the most lauded and debaucherous poet of the time, secretly penned many of Shakespeare’s credited works. Some scholars now believe Marlowe and Shakespeare were actually collaborators. That’s the lens of Born With Teeth. It shows the pair as partners writing the Henriad (the series of plays including Henry IV and Henry V), with a spicy dash of the enemies-to-lovers trope. But how sincere are their feelings in a world of spies and changing allegiances?

Born With Teeth is a tight two-man play, one that lives or dies by the skill of the players. Austin Playhouse’s production has found two perfectly capable actors in Ismael Soto III and Bailey Ellis. With them at the helm, this version of playwright Liz Duffy Adams’ script lives another day.

Set in Elizabethan England and packed with conspiracy, Born With Teeth presents a world full of intrigue – religious, political, professional, and oh yeah, sexual. The tension between Kit Marlowe (Soto) and Will Shakespeare (Ellis) is practically a third character. There’s heavy emphasis on stakes at hand – the fear of Catholicism, of atheism, the delicate balance of patrons and information. You’re only as good as what you can bring to the throne. Even the lightest moments of collaborative flirting are shot through with danger. Is everything a ruse? Or have two artistic souls found each other at last?

Set in Elizabethan England and packed with conspiracy, Born With Teeth presents a world full of intrigue – religious, political, professional, and, oh yeah, sexual.

Ellis makes a coquettish Shakespeare. One moment he’s every bit the naif Marlowe believes him to be, the next he seems to understand far more than he reveals. He occasionally addresses the audience, giving morsels of exposition and historical context. And while Ellis pulls off the narrative duties, he works extra well in scenes as an earnest foil to Marlowe. His Shakespeare sits prissily, taking in the world and work with wide, shiny eyes. It’s all in stark contrast to cocksure Kit – hard emphasis on the “cock,” exasperating and exhilarating as it may be. Soto blusters and billows, predatorily prowling around Shakespeare. The show accepts that Marlowe’s a spy for his wealthy patrons, trading information for status and protection. But his seemingly assured position is delicate, and Soto’s performance richens as the layers of pride peel away.

Much credit goes to director Ben Wolfe, who uses the claustrophobic one-room setting to its full advantage. Two men and a table. It’s all there is, but he has the characters pace around, climb furniture, and slightly touch each other in spellbinding ways. The emotional ante is so dialed up, there’s no room to feel fidgety. Their movements sparkle. So much rests on Ellis and Soto’s expression and body language, and it’s clear the marriage of the actors’ choices and the director’s vision are coming together in true harmony.

But what of the words? Adams’ script is extremely writerly, blending actual text from plays with Shakespeare and Marlowe’s artistic exchanges. As they collaborate over time – we see three meetings over the course of years – they sneak in words from their actual script (between all their foreplay, of course). They swap tidbits of Marlowe’s poems and Shakespeare’s plays, little bits and bobs showing their devotion to each other. At moments they act out scenes from the play they’re writing together, letting the words of the poets speak for themselves. Again, these are brilliantly directed. The quoted morsels show a different Shakespeare, exhibiting the character’s acting chops and the unique way his words emotionally connect with audiences. Marlowe may be a lyrical genius, but he lacks Shakespeare’s soul.

And soul is Born With Teeth’s best offering. Sure, there are plenty of political threads that come and go and get obliquely discussed. But the core is two men and their feelings. Their fears and desires. This is an ideal viewing for Shakespeare nerds, fans of historical liberties, people who want antagonists to just kiss already, and those who enjoy luxuriating in words. Pull up to the Austin Playhouse and enjoy all the queer Elizabethan drama your heart can handle.