Liz Duffy Adams’ play Born With Teeth is predicated on the idea that Will Shakespeare and Kit Marlowe did indeed collaborate on the writing of the Henry VI trilogy, and asks: so, what did they talk about while they worked? “Imagined conversations between two real people” is a well established theatrical genre; Born With Teeth fits neatly alongside plays like Peter and Alice, Red, or Picasso at the Lapin Agile. Stick two people with different personalities, desires, and worldviews in a room together and see what happens.

The differences between the two men here (William Shakespeare and Christopher Marlowe) are embodied by the men playing them. Ismael Soto III (Kit) is tall, broad, and speaks with a deep, commanding voice. When he walks, he strides. Bailey Ellis (Will) is more slight, more nervous, looking much younger (though, as he points out more than once, these men are exactly the same age). Almost every smile that Soto cracks is haughty and calculated; every time Ellis smiles, it’s good-natured. No dialect coach is named in the program, so their accents must just be that good.

The script is fun and quick, dotted with references that real Shakespeare-heads will recognize and chuckle at. It does get a little lost in figuring out what to be. Is it simply a character study of two great artists? Is it a love story? Is it a philosophical, psychological drama? Is it a meditation on being known? All of the above? Elements of each weave their way through the story. They rage, they joke, they chase each other round and round a table and come to blows; and eventually, it seems, they fall in love.

Oh, yeah, the love. It’s not the first time either Marlowe or Shakespeare’s sexuality has been questioned or played with, and I’d be lying if I said it wasn’t the part I was the most excited to see. It’s used to advertise the show, and Soto and Ellis have great chemistry. It’s just that it turns out a bit confusing. There’s a lot of flirting and seducing; they certainly want each other, and it adds wonderful tension to the back-and-forth of their dialogue. But when that tension breaks, we’re left with affection that seems unearned. Yes, Ellis and Soto play it well, but a scene where Will tries to convince Kit to run off and settle down with him feels out of step with the repartee of the first hour of the show.

Throughout it all, there looms the specter of what we as the audience know: for all of Kit’s fame, his spying, his grasping at power, his clawing and fighting and betraying, it’s Will’s name that will become synonymous with Elizabethan drama – perhaps with drama on the whole – in the future. The show’s costumes (Buffy Manners) echo the modern-historic tension: they take cues from history without being too pedantic, and cues from modern fashion that aren’t distracting.

There’s a question lingering when the audience leaves: could it have been different? Was it simply luck, Adams wonders, that Marlowe died young while Shakespeare did not? Kit boasts of his powerful friends and the protection they afford his behavior and writing. Will maintains that he would prefer to stay out of the way, quiet, hidden behind his art. While Kit’s protection eventually runs out, Will is still safely out of the spotlight. And in his last speech to the audience, he asks: would you still like me, if you really knew what was behind my words?

Photo: Steve Rogers

Born With Teeth runs at the Austin Playhouse (at University Baptist Church) through April 28, 2024. For tickets and information, visit the Austin Playhouse online.