Near the end of the first act, the
tight-ass steward Malvolio gets tricked by his fellow servants. They write
him a fake letter, supposedly from the lady of the house professing her love
for him. The letter directs him to do a bunch of stupid shit, and he’s
completely taken in. He reads the letter out loud to the audience, rejoicing in his good fortune—She loves
me!—and it’s supposed to be funny, and it is funny, but then the actor pauses. She searches the sky (Malvolio
is played by Katy Owen in this production) and shouts, “I am happy!” Her voice is raw and broken, and a laugh gets stuck in my throat. All at once, I see how
vulnerable Malvolio is. How exposed. How human. How unhappy he had been, and
how destroyed he will be once he learns the truth. The line hits me like a thunderclap—I am happy!—and I’m wiping away tears at intermission.

Maybe
you’re never moved so much as when you don’t expect to be moved. Maybe I was
surprised to find myself playing the fool, gulled by comedy, only to be caught
by this quick hook of poignancy. All I know for sure is that I’ll never hear a
declaration of happiness in the same way again.