After having read the play I'll be on crew for, and read a couple of different reviews and discussions of it (I wish I had access to more), my thoughts:
Two Gents is thought by some to be, perhaps, Shakespeare's first play. This is, as far as I can tell, conjectured mostly because of the text's "immaturity"--assuming that the Shakespeare who gave us the immortalized Hamlet, King Lear, and Othello could surely not always have been a playwriting prodigy; that his writing had to have had an "awkward teenager" phase and that he had to grow into the genius we now ascribe to him.
Some, however, have placed it after As You Like It and The Taming of the Shrew, and for a long time it was thought that the Henry VI trilogy was his first work, so there is, truly, no telling.
The plot is a smattering of things found in some of his other plays and a little bit pulled from contemporary literature he may have been acquainted with. One of the female characters dresses as a boy, bringing to mind Twelfth Night, As You Like It, and The Merchant of Venice. Valentine plans to climb up to Silvia's window with a cord ladder, which makes an appearance in Romeo and Juliet. Rings are used as a plot device, as in Merchant. The characters find refuge or terror the woods, as in A Midsummer Night's Dream. The "fools" shame the "wise," as in virtually every one of the plays attributed to Shakespeare. Silvia's father is bent on giving his daughter to the man of his choosing, regardless of her feelings for him, which, it could be argued, is a common plot theme in itself, but this is also seen again in Romeo and Juliet.
The underlying theme of the play is the tension between friendship and romantic love, which was a popular topic in drama and literature, as well as the ridiculousness of lovers. High school drama over which friend stabbed who in the back for his or her significant other is nothing new, by any means. Shakespeare, it seems, may show signs of beginning his trademark of broaching subjects from an entirely new angle and synthesizing or adapting already well-known views. But, unlike other plays, some argue that he blunders at the end of the Two Gents.
The almost-rape scene at the very end of the play has proved problematic for many other curious Shakespeare students besides myself. When Silvia still refuses Proteus even though he saved her from the outlaws, Proteus says that he will forcefully get what he wants from her. Right at that moment, Valentine intervenes and indignantly denounces Proteus. Proteus instantaneously repents (already problematic for some). Valentine then instantaneously forgives him (now even more problematic--perhaps Shakespeare just wanted to wrap things up?), and in his forgiveness, seemingly offers Silvia as a gift to Proteus, who almost raped her only a moment before (the most problematic piece of the puzzle).
So what in the world was Shakespeare thinking when he wrote this? Is this simply misogyny? If so, he certainly gave the female characters in Two Gents the nobler characters--Silvia's unwavering faithfulness and Julia's independence, adventurous nature, and steadfastness make them much more admirable than either of their selfish, deceitful male counterparts. Is this Shakespeare deciding against "ruffling feathers"? It was commonly held that male friendship was more valuable than male-female romance because the latter was perceived more as lust than anything else--sort of an Elizabethan "bros before hos" attitude. In the rest of the play, Shakespeare seems to play with the idea that romantic love, when true, has value, or perhaps with the even more innovative idea that friendship and romance are interdependent, only to seemingly defer, in this scene, back to the commonly perceived ideal that male friendship should be preserved at any cost, even at the expense of Silvia's feelings and dignity. Are we misinterpreting the ending? What does Valentine's line "All that was mine in Silvia I give thee" really mean? Is Valentine really offering Silvia to her almost-rapist as a reconciliation gift? Or does Valentine just mean that he himself will love Proteus as much as he ever loved Silvia? Another theory is that Valentine is indeed offering Silvia to Proteus, but in a purely farcical manner.
So which is it?
I have no idea. But it's certain that the staging of this scene will make all the difference and give it meaning, so I will be extremely interested to see how the ASC decides to portray it.
It certainly seems that this final scene is the most problematic piece of the play for most critics of Two Gents. Personally, just reading the play, I had a hard time believing the plot when Proteus, who had only just left his beloved Julia with an ardent a promise of his faithfulness, interacts with Silvia ONCE and, despite everything, including his best friend's affection for her and the fact that her father objects to any match for her but Thurio, falls instantly and hopelessly in love with her and instantly out of love with Julia. This is the same problem I have with Romeo and Juliet: the "love at first sight" plot device that is so unbelievable, at least to most modern audiences. I suppose that, again, the staging could make all the difference. If it is staged in such a way that the audience is persuaded to willfully suspend their disbelief, it will work. But if the play charges on, as the text does, without regard for whether the plot is believable, the audience will not be so willing. Here, again, is proof that plays are meant to be played and not read. Good actors can convince an audience of a multitude of untruths.
Before I conclude, just a few words on Launce and Crab the dog. Unless I am mistaken (and I could very well be--I have yet to read all of Shakespeare's works), this is Shakespeare's only play featuring a dog. Some think that the inclusion of Launce (and, therein, Crab) was an afterthought, and that Speed was originally to be the only comic servant. But, apparently, the play has been staged in such a way that many have praised the role of the dog as the most winning in the play.
The inclusion of the roles also creates an irresistible foil of friendship--Launce reports that he sacrificially offered to take a beating in Crab's place for Crab's little social faux pas, contrasting with Valentine and Proteus' poor excuse for a friendship: Valentine and Proteus mock each other heartlessly, and Proteus proceeds to stab Valentine in the back.
The play does end on a happy note--all the loose ends (however sloppily) tied up and (haphazardly) tucked in. But, as a very wise playwright once told me, comedies are only comedies because they end before the tragedy can begin; the ending of every comedy is a lie on some level.
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