Paris, 1666 — a place and time of political and social abuses and even philosophical/religious hypocrisy. This could not be more so than in the drawing room of Celimene (the clever, captivating Olivia Williamson). The widow seems trapped by her society's preoccupation with gossip and scandal-mongering, corruption and bribes, romantic rivalries, interference with true love, theft, and perversion of secular and religious morality. Society's School for Lies is teaching lessons as fauxas her salon's “marble” floor.
Corrective lessons are basically the same in David Ives' play as they were in Moliere's. They center on the misanthrope Alceste (here symbolically called Frank). But they're from a text both modernized and modified. In a Prologue by Frank's friend Philinte, for instance, Ives' use of iambic pentameter is not only defended but extolled as if the quintessential English dramatic poetry of Shakespeare is superior to alexandrines. (Other major Shakespearean twists are uses of mistaken identity, introduction of a “good” king's blessing, and a purely comic ending.)
If Ives' rime is ribald, I suspect Moliere's would also be if updating the social ills and characterizations to reflect the times. Ives' vocabulary is certainly more scatological and often appropriate, if stretching (e.g., a forced rhyme for “cunnilingus”). In FSU/Asolo Conservatory's production, words fly at such speed, there's no time to judge much of Ives' cleverness. The actors seem to enjoy the pace director Greg Leaming dictates, along with appropriate gesturing that might otherwise seem antiquated posturing.
The leading love story has Frank seemingly pushed into courting Celimene. She's not quite over her departed husband whom she considers a paragon unlike any of her three socialite pursuers. Oronte (Matthew Andersen, perfectly pathetic as a perfectly imperfect poet), lambasted by Frank, runs off to sue him. Clitander, a rich fop well played by Paul Herbig, fancies himself attractive. Acaste (effective Jory Murphy) is a simpleton.
Philinte is in love with pretty, seemingly sensible Eliante (Andrea Adnoff), but she goes for, and at, Frank. Though Frank's friend, Philinte's had enough of his foolery to already have tried persuading him of Celimene's suitability to be his wife. Also, because she's in trouble over some letters, Philinte tells her that Frank is secretly royal and can help her avoid a court case or adverse outcome.
Added to Celimene's troubles is being slandered by the jealous Arsinoe (Gracie Lee Brown's portrayal in stone-face). She claims she doesn't gossip; she just reports. Uh-huh. She steals letters, as well.
As the servant Dubois, Michael Frishman handles well a running joke of serving canapes that characters send flying. Sometimes the joke runs out of steam, though. Completely successful, however, is Frishman's doubling as the servant Basque, best when he's bid to summon his other self on stage.
Brian Owen endears as Philinte, especially as a hapless lover and a funny queen playing a Queen. Sharp in action as well as sweet in speech, Olivia Williamson's Celimene has flair. Remarkably smooth handling difficult transitions and an abundance of lines, including a few near-monologues, Matthew R. Olsen never seems implausible. His Frank pairs well with Williamson's Celimene.
David Covach's costumes supply much of the production's comedy. The fops' garments are as over the top as they are, but Philinte's and the women's also are elaborately colored, textured, embellished with lace, flowers, and jewelry. When Frank ditches his austere black suit and hat for an outfit that matches Celimene's (and then some!), it reflects the changes in him and their relationship.
Michelle Hart's wigs and hairstyles complement the clothing beautifully. The set in muted tones works to set the period and facilitate activity.
Moliere might well have updated his play with many of the changes Ives made in his adaptation, but he probably would have been upset to find his classic Misanthrope not really a misanthrope. Moliere devotees may find this and some of the other changes unsettling, but if one takes Ives on his own terms and follows a Frank, not an Alceste, the modern romp is a lot of fun.
