THE MISER To 3 October.
Manchester.
THE MISER
by Molière translate and adapted by Robert Cogo-Fawcett and Braham Murray.
Royal Exchange Theatre To 3 October 2009.
Mon-Fri 7.30pm Sat 8pm Mat Wed 2.30pm & Sat 4pm.
Audio-described 26 Sept 4pm.
BSL Signed 29 Sept.
Post-show Discussion 24 Sept.
Runs 1hr 5min One interval.
TICKETS: 0161 833 9833.
www.royalexchange.co.uk/bookonline (£2 transaction fee).
Review: Timothy Ramsden 15 September.
Well-tuned performances in a frock-horror show.
How do you do Molière in Britain these days? His mix of character and traditional commedia dell’arte defies British comic traditions. His title character here, Harpagon, goes beyond any individual case to exemplify the nature of avarice. And the modern, realistic elements of Ashley Martin-Davis’s set are in clear tension with this style.
Harpagon’s son and his servant talk about the old man’s greed, in defiance of the CCTV cameras all around (perhaps they know he’s too mean to switch them on?). Yet the blanched colours do suggest a house apparently stuck mid-redecoration (its owner frightened by the expense?) and never properly furnished, showing this miser as someone who won’t even spend money on himself. Harpagon isn’t just mean; he’s obsessive.
Director Helena Kaut-Howson has a fine cast who all handle the stylised form and the language with accomplishment, shaping sentences and rattling off quick-fire sections without any of the rawness that can afflict performances of excitable characters. As, for example, Helen Atkinson Wood’s money-seeking matchmaker Frosine, alternately drawing Harpagon’s interest in the young woman he intends marrying then seeing him switching-off at mention of payment for her help.
Everything’s played quickly, with plenty of movement to good comic effect (not always the case with busy productions of comedy). And that’s necessary amid the visual white-out, the noticeably stylised hair and facial make-up, plus the cutaway costumes for the young women. Harpagon’s daughter Elise has a dress shorn to reveal colourful leggings, and young Mariane, on whom both Harpagon and his son Cléante have their eye, is prettified by her colourful bell-shaped dress.
Among the sometimes furious action Derek Griffiths’ imposingly tall Harpagon is effortlessly mean; tight-fisted without apparently having to operate any muscles to tighten his fist. And he splendidly controls Harpagon’s solo scene of comic paranoia, turning on the whole world as the lights reveal the audience to him. It’s very funny – Griffiths inserts a knowing pause before Harpagon seriously states that you can’t trust banks – but it also opens up a frightening vision of miserly obsession destroying all trust or chance of any friendship in the world.
Harpagon: Derek Griffiths.
Cléante: Danny Lee Wynter.
Elise: Helen Bradbury.
Valère: Charlie Walker-Wise.
La Fleche: Simon Gregor.
Frosine: Helen Atkinson Wood.
Mariane: Sarah Ovens.
Jacques: Julian Chagrin.
Dame Claude/Maitre Simon: Pepe Balderrama.
Brindavoine: Chris Hannon.
La Merluche/Gendarme: Pawel Zdun.
Signor Anselme: Tim Barlow.
Director: Helena Kaut-Howson.
Designer: Ashley Martin-Davis.
Lighting: Mark Jonathan.
Sound: Steve Brown.
Composer: Akintayo Akinbode.
Movement: Julian Chagrin.
Assistant director: Sam Pritchard.
2009-09-21 02:55:06