School For Wives: Excellent Production, Troublesome Translation at The Gladstone
Photo. David Whitely. Set by David Magladry.
Once upon a time, way back in the 17th Century, Moliere wrote a classic comedy called School For Wives. He also created a classic comic character in his main protagonist, Arnolphe, an obsessive control freak who has groomed his ward, Agnes, throughout her young life for the ultimate role of becoming his own compliant, virtuous and faithful wife.
In the original play, Arnolphe has also given himself a second name, Monsieur de la Souche, his amusing inspiration for this being a gnarled but sturdy tree stump of his acquaintance. But David Whiteley, supplier of the new translation for the Gladstone Theatre’s current production of School For Wives, has apparently decided that Moliere needs an injection of contemporary vulgarity in order to ensure that he still connects with contemporary audiences. Hence, Arnolphe now possesses a different aka — Monsieur la Douche.
Be prepared, therefore, for a version in which people get pissed off and we hear about balls and dicks and shit. Whiteley explains in his program notes that he wanted a “flavour” he couldn’t find in other translations, that he was “hungry for Moliere’s story geared to a 21st Century Canadian ear, tongue and palate.”
Oh really? Perhaps if Whiteley had gone the Full Monty and offered a completely provocative, free-wheeling contemporary version in terms of idiom and language, he might have accomplished something that really did gain our attention, although not necessarily our approval. Or he might have taken a long hard look at Andy Jones’s uproarious version of Tartuffe which created and sustained an acceptable context for transferring Moliere to a Newfoundland outport. But what we get at the Gladstone is a half-hearted (one is tempted to call it “half-assed” in keeping with much of the text’s sensibility) treatment at war with itself and also with 17th Century France, which continues to be the play’s setting. It’s true that, when it comes to translating Moliere, Whiteley is no Richard Wilbur: there are embarrassing moments when he struggles to make a couplet rhyme. Yet, setting aside these occasional stumbles and the coarse contemporary colloquialisms, there are moments that do bubble along with a sprightly, elegant wit and testify to Whiteley’s strengths as a translator. So it really is a pity that the end result jars instead of jells.
That it works as well as it does on stage is due to the stylish, observant direction of John P. Kelly, who understands that the rhythms required of a Moliere performance are also visual, also to the work of a responsive cast determined to override the material’s discordant notes and make the evening a fun experience.
Andy Massingham gives us the quintessential short fuse in his characterization of Arnolphe, the paranoid chauvinist convinced that he and the nuns have brainwashed the young and innocent Agnes into becoming the kind of vacuous fluffhead best suited to fulfilling his obsessive need for an obedient spouse. Massingham, as adept with the slow burn as with the bombastic outburst, is a comic pleasure. The quicksilver emotions of Tess McManus’s Agnes help define a character of greater substance than Arnolphe can ever imagine (or tolerate) and also make her a consistently enjoyable stage presence. Drew Moore conveys a gauche, lumbering charm as the young lover whose presence on the scene threatens to send Arnolphe into meltdown, playwright David Whiteley dons his actor’s hat to bring a cool elegance to the role of Arnold’s friend Chrysalde, and David Benedict Brown and Catriona Leger are a pair of servants so delightful in their impertinence they could have been plucked off the stage of the Comedie-Francaise. In brief, there’s enough sharp-witted talent here to make us forget that what’s happening on stage is something of a mess.
The School For Wives by Moliere
A new translation by David Whiteley
Presented by SevenThirty and Plosive Productions
Gladstone Theatre, Sept 12 to 27
Tickets www.the gladstone.ca or 613 233 GLAD
Director: John P. Kelly
Choreographer: Andy Massingham
Sets and Lighting: David Magladry
Sound: Steven Lafond
Costumes: Patrice-Ann Forbes
Arnolphe: Andy Massingham
Agnes: Tess McManus
Horace: Drew Moore
Alain: David Benedict Brown
Georgette: Catriona Leger
Chrysalde: David Whiteley
Enrique: Catriona Leger
Oronte: David Benedict Brown
A Notary: David Whiteley