“It’s clever, witty and very well staged and directed. Choreography is excellent and the dance and fight scenes … are spectacular to watch.”
Julia Newbould
3.5 Stars
Venue: New Theatre
Sydney
Dates: Until June 28th
The original tale of dangerous liaisons.
In 1782 Pierre Choderlos de Laclos wrote a book comprised of a series of letters called Les Liaisons Dangereuses. It’s a great book and has always been a favourite of mine.
Not long after I first read it I saw the 1987 Nimrod production of the play, written by Christopher Hampton. Angela Punch McGregor and Hugo Weaving held the lead roles. (It was reprised by the STC in 2012 with Pamela Rabe and again with Hugo Weaving.) After that there were the movies, firstly Dangerous Liaisons, with Glenn Close and John Malkovich and then the younger updated version Cruel Intentions with Sarah Michelle Geller and Ryan Phillipe.
I enjoyed them all, but the book remains the wittiest and best. This production is most faithful to the original (translated) text, using an adaptation by Sydney playwright Deborah Mulhall.
Humour was sprinkled liberally through the dialogue – which the cast seemed to ease into as the play progressed. At the beginning of the preview I saw, there were a few lines in the first act that were swallowed instead of being given the delivery they deserved. Fortunately, this was remedied by interval.
The play was also updated with Nine Inch Nails songs while the cast moved around in some Vogueish movements; the choreography was excellent, taking us to a gyrating world of stylish excess. Costume designer Lily Mood deserves a special mention for the creative outfits which were a fresh blend of both pre-Revolution French and contemporary.
The language is formal and the delivery honours the classic nature of the play.
Melissa Jones as Marquise de Merteuil is excellent. Chad Traupmann as Comte de Valmont seemed to struggle to get the chemistry right between himself and Merteuil. He was more relaxed with the other cast members, but this too seemed to ease as the play went on. Perhaps Jones’s sharp and strong delivery is not quite in line with his delivery which was more laid back and not quite as powerful. Traupmann’s Valmont is more sleaze than seducer, which is a pity. Seducers are after all, irresistible and charm everyone whilst sleazes give ick vibes.
The premise of the story is that former lovers Merteuil and Valmont play evil games with other people – they seduce the innocent for their own amusement and challenge each other. They try to outdo each other in their sordid activities. Behind their games is their unfulfilled passion for each other – their love affair had gone wrong, and the simmering hurt, and jealousy have made them unfeeling towards others and destined to disaster.
Merteuil has two lovers and is pretending friendships in society with the prime aim of seducing and creating havoc. She collects letters as written evidence which she can use as blackmail. Valmont is trying to impress her and win her in bed once again. She sets him a challenge to seduce a pious, married woman whose husband is away. But when he falls in love, Merteuil sets in motion a new plan which spirals out of control.
It’s a difficult play – there are several characters which newcomers to the story find difficult to keep up with. And their French titles are a little confusing. However, the play is worth it all. It’s clever, witty and very well staged and directed. Standout performances include Bronte Price as Cecile, who she plays a little like a young Isla Fisher. Her mother Madame de Volanges, played by Beth Champion, is like an older Isla Fisher. Megan Elizabeth Kennedy as Madame de Tourvel is played deftly with both passion and frailty. Ella Morris who plays both the page Azolan and Cecile’s friend Sophie is excellent, and I expect to see more of her in future productions.
Choreography is excellent and the dance and fight scenes (Diego Retamales, James Shepherd) are spectacular to watch.
Congratulations to all involved on an excellent adaptation of a classic.
Three and a half intrigues
photo by Bob Seary
Julia Newbould, Theatre Now
