The Misanthrope: I Could Have Had a V-8

I didn't see director Ivo van Hove's acclaimed/detested production of Hedda Gabler, but I'm told it ended with the title character being doused with a bottle of V-8 juice.  There seems to be no tasty vegetable cocktail available in his new production of The Misanthrope, so the title character plops himself on a table full of messy goodies, slathering himself with chocolate sauce, squeezing ketchup down his pants, ramming a watermelon half on his head, making a toupee out of spaghetti and, I would assume, giving his dry cleaner nightmares.

If van Hove has something interesting to say about Moliere's satire of human communication, I didn't hear it clearly.  Yes, when it comes to abstract theatre, it's usually best not to ask "why," but to instead just take in what's offered and see if it does anything for you.  But when interpreting a major work by one of history's great playwrights, you'll forgive me if I expect a director's interpretation to enhance the text instead of distracting from it.

The titular Alceste (Bill Camp) despises the class he is unavoidably a part of.  Cynical about the intensions of all people, including Celimene (Jeanine Serralles), the woman he loves, the talkative play concerns Alceste's belief in brutal honesty above the false kindness his peers use to get along in polite society.  Quite appropriately, van Hove sets the play in what looks like a modern day corporate setting.  Jan Versweyveld's nicely sterile production design has window panels on three sides surrounding the light grey playing area with the audience watching through windowless frames.  Rows of florescent lights hang above and the only set pieces are a bench and an over-sized coffee table.  The actors, all barefoot and in white shirts and dark suits, (costumes by Emilio Sosa) frequently use their cell phones, BlackBerrys and laptops to communicate.  Outside the playing area, two people operate cameras that, on an annoyingly slight delay, project much of the action as it's taking place on three upstage screens.  Tal Yarden's video design also takes us backstage and even out onto West 4th Street.  And some of West 4th Street even makes its way onto the stage.

In a production nearly void of humor the actors generally speak in severely grim tones, save for Amelia Campbell, who provides a welcome shot of humanity as Celimene's frazzled critic Arsinoe.  There's a lot of rolling around on the floor as characters violently make love or erotically wrestle.  Occasionally, sound designer Raul Vincent Enriquez provides the faint sound of drums and rattles.  The production is not lacking for stimulants and what is there is very well executed, but Tony Harrison's translation gets buried under the concept and without the text in the forefront the evening gets dull rather quickly.

I suppose the idea behind this Misanthrope is comment on how impersonal modern technology has made our lives.  A valid point, but so 20th Century.

Photos by Joan Marcus: Joan MacIntosh, Jeanine Serralles, Thomas Jay Ryan, Jason C. Brown, Quincy Tyler Bernstine and Bill Camp; Jeanine Serralles and Bill Camp

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