The Misanthrope, Moliere. Roger McGough's translation, produced by the English Touring Theatre. I'd heard this on Radio 3 before seeing it, and loved the energy and colourful characterisation. A lot hinges on what we make of Alceste's demand for authenticity and sincerity in face of the absurd falsehoods of social life. The play gives us enough room to see his stance as a form of romantic egotism, even as we applaud his ridicule of the fops around him. Seeing it was a little disappointing - we were part of a tiny Saturday afternoon audience at the Nuffield, Southampton, and the main actor had mysteriously been replaced by another, valiantly reading from a script. Nonetheless, the production rattled along, and the cast delivered. Alceste's infatuation with the flighty Célimène didn't really convince, partly the effect of McGough's script, which didn't let all the plot lines make full sense. But there was much to enjoy: great set-pieces (I loved Oronte's warm-up for the delivery of his sonnet); lovely staging and choreography to Peter Coyte's score; and a stunning final tableau. But Southampton's apparent indifference to its theatre does make me worry for its future.
Tuesday 16 July 2013
The Misanthrope, Molière
The Misanthrope, Moliere. Roger McGough's translation, produced by the English Touring Theatre. I'd heard this on Radio 3 before seeing it, and loved the energy and colourful characterisation. A lot hinges on what we make of Alceste's demand for authenticity and sincerity in face of the absurd falsehoods of social life. The play gives us enough room to see his stance as a form of romantic egotism, even as we applaud his ridicule of the fops around him. Seeing it was a little disappointing - we were part of a tiny Saturday afternoon audience at the Nuffield, Southampton, and the main actor had mysteriously been replaced by another, valiantly reading from a script. Nonetheless, the production rattled along, and the cast delivered. Alceste's infatuation with the flighty Célimène didn't really convince, partly the effect of McGough's script, which didn't let all the plot lines make full sense. But there was much to enjoy: great set-pieces (I loved Oronte's warm-up for the delivery of his sonnet); lovely staging and choreography to Peter Coyte's score; and a stunning final tableau. But Southampton's apparent indifference to its theatre does make me worry for its future.
