In early Spring, when the world seems equal parts rain and sunshine, our thoughts predictably turn inside out. As the natural world turns green and lush around us, we suddenly feel the urge to trade those inward, reflective, heat-seeking pursuits of winter for anything that gets us up and out, moving and planting and creating. Right on schedule, the Oregon Shakespeare Festival, in Ashland, has—as of mid-February—officially rekindled and recommenced, with six shows currently running in a nine-month-long season that will eventually total 11 shows on three stages.

Some are old favorites. Others are brand new.

This year, many are a combination of both of those.

Romeo & Juliet—directed by Laird Williamson in the spacious Angus Bowmer Theater—takes Shakespeare’s timeless tale of ill-fated teenagers in love, and sets it in California of the 1840’s, where two wealthy Mexican families feud as the American military moves in to occupy its new geographic acquisition. Think Zorro, and you’ll have an idea of the vibe Williamson is going for.

The best thing about the play is the freshness of its look, with stunningly detailed costumes (Susan Tsu), and an adobe-and-wood set by scenic designer Michael Ganio. Also a plus are the delightfully youthful performances of Daniel Jose Molina and Alejandra Escalente as Romeo and Juliet, and some nicely choreographed stage fighting, which seems like the kind of fighting teenagers would do if they were permitted to carry swords to school.

Unfortunately, though our star-crossed lovers do successfully act the ages of the teenage R&J—pouting and flirting, raging and brawling, skipping and frolicking—the pair never demonstrate much actual romantic chemistry. Lacking any real passion and fire, the tone of the production becomes a bit flat and non-involving.

A similar lack of engagement takes place in Troilus & Cressida, Shakespeare’s seldom-staged sociopolitical satire about sexual and geographical politics during the Trojan War. The action—and I use that word loosely—is set several years into the famous siege of Troy, placed somewhere between the legendary kidnapping of the beautiful Helen and the famous Trojan Horse episode. A deliberately thoughtful look at the costs of violence, Shakespeare shows us what war looks like when it’s stuck in a quagmire, with little happening beyond soldiers waiting, and waiting, and waiting, their psyches slowly disintegrating.

The story follows Trojan prince Troilus (here played by Raffi Barsoumian) who’s fallen hard for the lovely Cressida (Tala Ashe), a Trojan woman whose family is in disgrace after the defection of her father to the besieging Greek army. When their love is threatened by a prisoner swap agreement between the two sides, Shakespeare relates a very different story of what happens when true love is denied.

When staged with the emphasis on the slow heartbreak at the center of Shakespeare’s storytelling, this is devastating material, and director Rob Melrose begins with an intriguing interpretation that promises more than it ultimately delivers.

Updated to modern-day Bagdhad, the Trojans have been turned into Iraqis, with the Greeks transformed into American soldiers, the versatile New Theater turned into a rubble-filled battle filled outside a ruined city. Melrose’s vision is tasty, at first. There is a visceral thrill at seeing recognizable names like Achilles (Peter Macon) and Ulysses (Mark Murphey) portrayed as Desert Storm army guys, but somewhere along the way, the direction becomes muffled and confusing, and the ultimate pathos of Shakespeare’s low-key tragedy is ultimately not served as well as it could have been.

Far less serious, and much better, is Allison Narver’s hilarious and inventive staging of Animal Crackers. Energetic and entertaining, if somewhat overlong, this is Henry Wishcamper’s fan-friendly adaptation of the celebrated Marx Brothers musical, built from the original Broadway script (by George S. Kaufman and Morrie Ryskind) that launched the Marx Brothers' career.

Like the classic movie inspired by the play, Animal Crackers is the story of one wild weekend at the Long Island estate of Mrs. Rittenhouse (K.T. Vogt), who invites the celebrated African explorer Captain Spaulding (a Groucho-channeling Mark Bedard) to give a lecture at her home. Bedard captures Groucho’s physical mannerisms to a tee, though his vocal impersonation occasionally wanders. Forming the rest of the famous foursome, Brent Hinkley, John Tufts and Eddie Lopez (Harpo, Chico and Zeppo, respectively) recreate some of the most famous bits in classic-comedy history. With a live chamber orchestra on stage, and some inspired physical choreography that sends the cast literally careening off of one another, the low-brow shenanigans do begin to wear thin into the show’s overstuffed third portion. Not that Narver’s madcap confection is ever boring. It’s not. Ultimately, I recommend Animal Crackers, because too much of a good thing isn’t necessarily a bad thing.

Also recommended is director Libby Appel’s shimmering production of Anton Chekhov’s poignant The Seagull, with a crisp and lucid English adaptation by Appel that shows its intentions beginning with the title, shorted to merely Seagull.

Chekhov’s tale of a family of Russian artists clashing over money, art and love—love denied, love ignored, love destroyed—is presented in such an unfussy and straightforward manner, the playwright’s rocky emotional jigsaw puzzle becomes pleasantly, unexpectedly and heartbreakingly clear, as all of Chekhov’s pieces fall beautifully, one by one, into place.

The theme of impossible love continues in my favorite show of the current crop. The White Snake, written and directed by the Tony-winning Mary Zimmerman, brings a little-known Chinese folktale to life through eye-pleasing visuals that are as poetic and the luscious and heartbreaking text. If you think Romeo and Juliet had it hard, consider the problems facing White Snake (Amy Kim Wascke), a mountain snake spirit who ventures to the city of humans for one day, and falls hard for a kind-hearted pharmacist (Christopher Livingston), who does not suspect that the woman of his dreams is actually a snake in human disguise. Told in one fluid act, the story touches a rainbow array of tones and feeling as the two mismatched lovers catch the eye of a cruel priest (Jack Willis), who decries the couple’s love as unnatural, and vows to separate them forever. At once achingly simple and miles deep, The White Snake packs a huge emotional wallop, with a breathtaking ending that somehow blends heartache and delight into a single unforgettable image.

For the full schedule, visit www.OSFashland.org.

From the moment the audience enters the room for Spreckels Theatre Company’s shiny new production of Jones & Schmidt’s beloved The Fantasticks, theatergoers are plunged into the celebrated play’s sweetly surreal, amiably over-the-top romantic world. Romping across the splendidly spare set—little more than a raised platform and a large, mysterious wooden trunk—is the Mute, the musical’s silent co-narrator, played with impressive physical charm and commitment by Denise Elia. Skipping, dancing, pantomiming and playing, she sets the tone for what is to come: an agreeably stripped-down, highly fairy-tailish examination of young love and the hard knocks of life.

Directed by Matthew Teague Miller, this production—in the intimate Condiotti theater—enhances much of what is good about this often difficult-to-stage, 1960 show, all while de-emphasizing those elements that some audiences have found to be sadly dated or in poor taste. I have to admit, though I’ve always loved the music of The Fantasticks, with songs like "Try to Remember," "Soon It’s Gonna Rain," and "Never Say No," I’ve never seen a production that meets the heightened expectations raised by the show’s shimmering reputation. It played for an astounding 42 years off Broadway, and has become a staple of community theaters and college theater arts programs for decades.

Despite the fact that, in many ways, The Fantasticks is exactly the kind of show I would normally fall in love with, I’ve been consistently disappointed. The good news is, with the graceful direction of Miller, a cast perfectly suited to their characters, and a clever series of changes, the dramatic and romantic aspects of this production absolutely pop right off the stage. In so intimate a setting, the silly-lovely dialogue seems immediate and real, and the chemistry between the actors had me writing the words “sweet,” “charming” and “very pretty” in my notebook.

The co-narrator character El Gallo, often played as a charlatan from start to finish, is here allowed to start the play as a truly decent guy, with actor Steven Shear dropping the oft-used goofball accent to sing "Try to Remember" with so much sincerity and straight-to-the-heart simplicity, few will be able to resist feeling melted into love-story mode right out of the gate. That story follows The Girl (Adria Swan) and The Boy (Gabriel Stephens), coaxed into falling in love by their fake-feuding fathers. The young lovers leapfrog through a plot involving a pretend abduction—described in much cruder terms in the original production—longing, disappointment, broken hearts, wisdom gained, and love rekindled.

If only the musical side of this production stacked up to everything else. Accompanied by musical director Lucas Sherman—who carries the show on his capable back as the sole accompanist, on a baby grand in the corner of the stage—the problems include an uneven range of singing strength among the cast, some of the singing drop-dead-great, some, um, not so, with harmonies that had me writing the words “yikes” and “ouch” next to all those other nice words I’d already written. When the singing is fine, even exceptional, the fact that no mikes are used makes it extremely hard to hear all of the lyrics, many of which are drowned out by the piano, despite Sherman’s heroic attempts to keep the music beneath the singer’s voices.

And so, my quest to finally see a production of The Fantasticks that lives up to its legend continues. Till then, despite its problems, the elegant and mostly-lovely Spreckels show is easily the best, most genuinely affecting production of this beloved musical I’ve seen.

The Fantasticks runs through Feb. 19 at Spreckels Performing Arts Center. Visit www.spreckelsonline.com for information.