Although more has been written on the commedia dell'arte than on any other type of theatre, many fundamental questions remain unanswered, and opinions concerning its origins, early history, and definition are surprisingly divergent. It is evident that the term ‘commedia dell'arte’ would become virtually meaningless if it were stretched to include, without qualification, all manifestations of theatrical entertainment which feature characters representing, or deriving from, its stock types; or the full range of theatrical practises offered by the very versatile early comici d'arte, although all are of concern to commedia studies. The commedia dell'arte itself may be broadly defined as a type of professional dramatic performance associated with distinctive stock characters, that arose in mid-sixteenth-century Italy, whose evolving cultural derivatives have spread throughout Europe. Its stock types drew on a wide variety of sources, including mystery and mummers’ plays, carnival masks, street theatre and court entertainment; popular farces and erudite comedy; and have transcended the theatre to play key roles in music, dance, art and literature. The extreme complexity of its continuing interchanges with other cultural phenomena makes precise definition of the commedia dell'arte elusive, and the term itself also resists easy definition because it was coined only in mid-eighteenth-century Paris, two centuries after the type of theatre with which it is associated first came into being.

Early modern mountebanks, also known as charlatans or quacksalvers, were commercial travelling showmen associated with the sale of quack medicines and other products. They achieved wide recognition as a significant influence on the rise of professional acting, through their employment of performers to attract customers for their wares, and are frequently discussed in the context of early professional popular entertainment. Many depictions of mountebanks include commedia dell'aite costumes, but it has remained an open question whether some of their shows (as well as some of their costumes) fall within the sphere of the commedia dell'arte. Inconclusive evidence is presented by the relatively few studies which incline towards accepting a significant overlap between mountebank activity and the commedia dell'arte and clear-cut distinctions are routinely made between the repertoire of street performers, and that of the comici d'arte. Richards and Richards concede that ‘mountebank stages … may well have been the breeding grounds of many of the first regular actors’, but repeatedly emphasize the distinction ‘between performers of the trestle and those of the stage’, and are careful to dismiss mountebank stage routines as at the most ‘short playlets’. If the presently perceived lack of detailed documentation concerning mountebank entertainment is justified, then so is the cautious approach typified by Richards and Richards. On the evidence presented to date, it would appear that mountebank performances are at most distantly related to the commedia dell'arte.

Tiberio Fiorilli (1608–1694), son of the great Neapolitan actor and playwright Silvio Fiorillo, became famous in the role of ‘Scaramouche’ as the leading actor of the Théâtre Italien in Paris. In spite of his importance as a theatrical manager in France and in Italy, his life and personality have long remained a mystery. Dressed in his black suit, is how Molière depicted Scaramouche in the first verse of Le Sicilien ou l'amour peintre. Only recently has Fiorilli's theatrical career become the subject of serious investigation, and new documents are helping to clarify his image.

The charlatans of seventeenth-century Paris attracted customers to view and buy their wares by producing and participating in free theatrical performances in the open air. Some of them worked solo, at ground level or ‘mounting a bench’—hence the term ‘mountebank’. Others, however, worked with sizeable troupes of performers on large stages in busy metropolitan interchanges traversed by all strata of society. This made them public figures, among the best known in France. They worked on the same principle as commercial television: attract people, by means of some sort of entertainment, to focus their attention on one spot, and then take a break to sell them wonderful products at a very low price that will make them young, hard-bodied, and happy.

In 1880, the first modern editor to publish a collection of commedia dell'arte scenarios noted, not without surprise, that ‘the earliest professional actors were almost all writers as well’. ‘Almost all’ is perhaps an exaggeration. Yet the literary production of comic players, and particularly that of the second and third generation of actors, is impressive for its quantity as well as its variety. It ranges from Giovan Paolo Fabbri's Capitoli alla Carlona and Adriano Valerini's historically important essay on the beauties of Verona, to the Rime of Isabella Andreini, in which she established a dialectic connection between the art of writing and that of the theatre:

If you will read one day

my neglected verses, don't be taken in by

these feigned ardours

I am used to playing in dramatic love scenes

with such insincere passions

with lying and mock expressions.

I unfold the Muses' high furores

sometimes weeping in false sorrow

sometimes singing with false pleasure.

In 1982 Ferdinando Taviani proposed in Il segreto della commedia dell'arte that the earliest known actresses in Italy may have been drawn from the ranks of the courtesans, the oneste meretrici, forced from Rome after the Council of Trent (1545–63) by papal reforming zeal. This hypothesis has been affirmed by several other scholars in Europe and the United States and is becoming widely accepted not just as a feasible theory but as gospel, the exclusive conduit through which women entered the western theatre.

The profound influence of the commedia dell'arte on European theatre is commonly acknowledged, although it has not yet been extensively analysed. In Northern Europe some of its first traces are iconographic. There are masked Venetian characters among the paintings collected by the Danish king Christian IV. The first such masks to appear in a Danish context are three Pantaloons acting as stage hands in a court ballet which was part of Det store Bilager (‘The Great Wedding Feast’), the grandiose festivities celebrating the Crown Prince's wedding in 1634. Later, German troupes may have presented harlequinades. The first reliable accounts of Italian actors playing in Denmark feature a certain Venetian comedian-charlatan: Sebastiano di Scio, known as Harlekino, who travelled the country with a twenty-four strong entourage, at the turn of the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries. He was employed as a royal comedian and physician, and furnished the Royal household with obscure medicines for obscure diseases. The combination of comedian and charlatan is, of course, typical.

The truth of Shaw's dictum that ‘those who can, do, and those who can't, teach’, is questioned by the history of commedia dell'arte in the twentieth century, in which research, practice and teaching are inextricably bound together. The significance of commedia's influence on the modern stage lies precisely in the fact that the nature of commedia cannot be defined objectively but is mediated through research and stage practice. We have to deal, therefore, not so much with commedia itself as with an ‘idea’ of commedia, a phrase I have borrowed from Kenneth Richards and Laura Richards.

Ophaboom Theatre was formed in 1991 with the aim of developing, researching and performing a contemporary version of commedia dell'aite to provide humour and resonance for a modern audience. By returning to the roots of commedia, on the streets, Ophaboom's performances, we hoped, might recapture its popular appeal, and be accessible to as wide an audience as possible. In doing this we have questioned many of the traditional ideas associated with this form, and also its contemporary relevance. Our approaches to each mask or character type, such as the Zanni (servant), the innamorata (lover), and Pantalone (old man), are tested in live performance in turn, and only when satisfied with it do we move on to the next mask. This return to the roots is aimed at invigorating the form methodically through an evolution possibly analogous to that of the original commedia. Our belief is that the eighteenth-century manifestation, which is often the only perception and thus representation of commedia today, does not appeal to a wide public. At its height, commedia owed its vitality to its wideranging appeal, and by rediscovering its spirit we hope to revitalize this popularity.