The School for Wives: Brilliantly directed production of a hilariously modern translation
If there’s one conversation I have had over and over again with fellow theatre lovers and critics, it’s on how to attract younger audiences to the theatre. Do you make theatre going mandatory in elementary schools? Do you change your advertising? How about we entirely update classics while keeping the period costumes and staying true to the original context instead? While we’re at it, let’s also translate the play to make it relevant for today, but ensure that it respects the complexity of language and ideas of the original. If possible, let’s also put in an homage to the 17th century rhyming scheme. Just, you know, make it sound like prose and keep our attention.
Seems like a lot to ask, doesn’t it? I’m going to be honest here. When I heard that Polsive and Seven Thirty Productions was putting on The School for Wives as translated by David Whiteley, I proceeded with caution and a heavy dose of fear. They say experience shapes our perceptions and I’ve seen one too many awkward “modernized” adaptations and translations of classics to avoid the gut reaction. Imagine my growing joy, then, as I realized the genius of the translation and direction in this production. Whiteley and director John P. Kelly have come together to create a work of art that is modern while still remaining reverent of the original. They’ve managed to capture Molière’s sense of humour and sharp critique of society and make it relevant for today’s audiences, young and old alike.
Molière’s The School for Wives is about an aging nouveau-riche aristocrat, Arnolphe (call-me-Monsieur-Douche), fears cuckoldry more than anything on this earth. Because of this, he chooses an innocent girl, Agnès, locks her up and keeps her ignorant in a convent for 13 years, after which he plans to marry and mould her into the perfect docile and faithful wife. The plan backfires when innocent Agnès meets Horace, a younger whipper snapper, who’s young and good looking. The two fall in love and every one of Arnolphe’s plans to separate them fall hilariously apart. Molière was critiquing jealousy and a certain contemporary view of women. More than that, though, he was critiquing the choices and lives of the bourgeoisie of his age.
Whiteley’s clever translation showcases his extensive knowledge of the English language and the play. He chooses to keeps the original “Alexandrine” rhyming verse, but modernizes it in such a way that it almost seems like prose, it’s so easy to follow. He even throws in a couple of tongue-in-cheek, “bad” self-conscious rhymes that underline the absurdity of an entire play written in poetry in this day and age. Is his translation vulgar? You bet it is. Then again, Molière was no blushing virgin of puritan language himself. What may not seem as crass to us today in the original has more to do with us being out of the context of 17th century France than its propriety.
Whiteley’s work is realized on stage beautifully by John P. Kelly. His direction is as dynamic and naughty as Whiteley’s translation. It picks up on the rhythm of the text and often reads like a choreographed dance. Our eye is never bored, as there is action happening in every corner of the stage, and at every level. Kelly also inserts entirely silent scenes to fill in bits of the story, as well as for comedic effect and to emphasize the character and themes of the play. Andy Massingham choreographs the action expertly. It’s a slickly directed production which takes the kinds of risks that pay off.
This kind of quick-witted, fast paced comedy needs capable actors to carry it and Polsive Productions’ cast doesn’t disappoint. Tess McManus plays an unworldly Agnès whose very unworldliness lets her know exactly what she desires. McManus plays her as what she is – a child awakening to the world around her. She adds a most-welcome vixenish edge to Agnès, which makes her a delight to watch on stage. Drew Moore plays Agnès’ lover, Horace, as the bro-iest of bros and is nothing short of endearingly adorable. Not the smartest tool in the shed himself, he is just as innocent and young as Agnès. His portrayal had me impatiently waiting for the return of Horace to the stage. Most importantly, both Moore and McManus create a chemistry and excitement for each other, despite their characters’ ages, that makes us nostalgic for the days of mad, young love.
Andy Messingham plays the paranoid, jealous Arnolphe/Monsieur Douche. His facial expressions as he watches every single plan he has spent 13 years putting into place crash around him are priceless and his timing is perfect for this kind of comedy. He plays Arnolphe with a degree of humanity, endearing us to the old man. However, Messingham doesn’t let us get too attached to Arnolphe. After all, this is a creepy old man with severe insecurities and delusions, with a temper to boot. Much like the rest of the play, he creates an Arnolphe that’s layered and a lot more than just a stock character. One thing I would have liked to see a bit more is an emphasis on the delusions of the bourgeoisie and snobbery that Arnolphe represents and that is the crux of Molière’s play. Other than that, though, it was a job marvellously done.
If you want theatres to fill up, night after night, this is exactly the kind of production we need more of. It’s daring, it’s modern, and it’s uproarious. The proof is in the audience, who couldn’t stop laughing the night I was there. It’s one of the purest gems I’ve seen in Ottawa since I seriously started paying attention to theatre. I could go on about this production for ages, but go see it yourself. Trust me, you won’t regret it. Unless, of course, you’re particularly against deep-seated laugh lines.
The School for Wives continues at the Gladstone Theatre to September 27.
School for Wives by Moliere, new translation by David Whitely
SevenThirty Productions
Director: John P. Kelly
Choreographer: Andy Massingham
Sets and Lighting: David Magladry
Sound: Steven Lafond
Costumes: Patrice-Ann Forbes
Cast:
Arnolphe…………………………. …Andy Massingham
Agnes………………………………. Tess McManus
Horace…………………………….. ..Drew Moore
Alain………………………………… David Benedict Brown
Georgette/Enrique…………………….Catriona Leger
Chrysalde/Notary……………………..David Whiteley
Oronte..……………………………….David Benedict Brown