HARBEN LETS HL Fashion Show Preview - The Founder

The Founder | Thursday 11 March 2010
E X T R A
The Misanthrope
Comedy Theatre
Sophie Yates
A new and modernised version
of Molière’s Le Misanthrope has
hit the West End, and has sparked
a box-office frenzy, largely due to
Keira Knightley making her stage
debut.
Originally by the famous seventeenth
century French playwright,
this masterpiece has been re-written,
transposed and transformed
by Martin Crimp. Reassigned
from seventeenth century Paris to
modern-day London, the play is set
entirely in an opulent Claridgesesque
suite.
Damian Lewis (Band of Brothers)
plays the brilliantly cantankerous
and misanthropic Alceste. Alceste
is a famous but disillusioned
playwright who is bitterly against
the triviality of contemporary culture
but has fallen for an American
movie star named Jennifer, played
by Keira Knightley. Jennifer embodies
everything Alceste detests,
yet he still lusts after her.
With Knightley’s portrayal
of Jennifer, it’s easy to see why.
Knightley is both delicate and imposing
on stage. In 6 inch heels and
a silky black jumpsuit, she floats
around the stage tearing Alceste’s
ing desire for parts in Poitier’s next
movie, most especially since that
movie is Cats.
The play itself is far from
perfect. First staged in 1990, it’s
probably fair to say that twentyodd
years has left it at least a little
dated; certainly, satires about the
hypocrisies of prosperous liberals
and their over-privileged children
are hardly new ground any more;
and the dialogue does have its iffier
criticisms apart and bitching about
fellow celebrities and people in the
business. She’s confident and cruel,
not to mention sexy. Knightley was
not at all wooden in her performance
and completely convincing as
Jennifer. Even her American accent
did not falter for the whole two
hours, something I did expect. This
being her stage debut, Knightley
has done brilliantly.
Both Knightley and Lewis were
brilliant in their roles, as were all
of the main characters, including
esteemed actors such as Tara
Fitzgerald and Tim McMullan.
Finding Jennifer’s circle of friends
sycophantic, nepotistic and totally
false, Alceste begs her to change
her ways. Her blunt refusal to do as
she’s told leads to Alceste’s indignant
whining and bitter jealousy.
Modern-day popular culture is
then thoroughly slated for the
remainder of the play.
The script is extremely impressive;
perhaps the most impressive
part of the show. Some of it
remains unchanged, and it still
follows its traditional rhyming
pattern, as Molière’s did. However
much of the language and references
are changed, to suit the modernday
setting. He’s managed to create
a whole new world whilst remain-
moments. Flan and Ouisa are on a
charm offensive with their affluent
South African guest, but their
endlessly repeated asides of “two
million dollars…two million dollars!”
seems a rather ham-fisted way
of reminding us that yes, they are
a trifle money-minded. Elsewhere,
their kids, all made up like Northern
TopShoppers, are really little
more than caricatures; “I’m calling
you to tell you I’m wrecking my
ing faithful to Molière, an amazing
feat. The wit of rhyme really makes
this play different to any other.
It’s rare to find a modern adaptation
which is written in a similar
rhythm and form to its original
counterpart. Just think of modern
day Shakespeare – most of it either
keeps the original text or discards
the form completely and uses
normal colloquial speech. However
with Crimp’s version he’s managed
to keep it relevant and funny by
throwing in references to modern
politics, celebrities and events.
The play interestingly breaks it
own codes of honour by hiring
Hollywood starlet Knightley to
play the glamorous Jennifer. Let’s
face it, over half the audience will
be flocking to the Comedy theatre,
life because it’s the only way I can
hurt you.”, snipes Flan and Ousia’s
jeggings-clad daughter, sounding
like an off-day for the Skins writing
team, her high-pitched insistences
that her parents’ investment in
her education is little more than
a means to turn her into a little
corporate extension of themselves
amusing in their illogicality but
hardly an attitude that hasn’t been
done before, and done better, in
first and foremost, to see Lewis or
Knightley. A bit of a strange notion
since the whole basis of the play is
to deconstruct these celebrity egos
and the uncultured, vulgar public
who worship them. This could be
turning into an attack on that same
uncultured public who have all
flocked to see just how flat-chested
and skeletal Knightley really is (“I
just want to see Keira up close”
someone unabashedly gushed in
the foyer). Packed with ironies such
as this, and able to laugh at itself,
the Misanthrope playfully picks at
its writer, the actors, even its audience.
“People speak highly of a pile
of shit if they get dressed up and
paid £50 to see it” ranted Alceste,
prompting one of the biggest
laughs of the evening. At one point
the Evening Standard is brought on
stage, and a short article was read
out from the particular Monday
that I saw the play. I assume they
read a current article out every
night. It’s little simple and amus-
every teen movie since She’s All
That. All the same, the play’s overriding
themes of money and artifice
are still quietly prevalent. Paul isn’t
educated, yet his knowledge of
human nature and his subsequent
ability to manipulate makes him
worthy of the most quick-witted
Iago, yet as his situation gets more
desperate as his lies get him in
trouble with the police, he seems
to unravel further and further. “I’m
19
Arts
ing extras, which whilst not too
mocking in tone, make this play a
pleasure.
Some critics have pointed out
that Crimp’s version is not quite
as biting in its criticism of the
superficial, when compared to
Molière’s original. In the original,
Alceste risks social outcast and the
possibility of being sent to prison.
In the modern day version, Alceste
whinges and spouts out witticisms
all pointing to the superficiality of
a celebrity obsessed culture, but
risks little. In fact, people who do
this kind of thing now fare pretty
well. Just take a look at a few of the
Guardian columnists. Although
critics may be right, a modern day
Misanthrope seems much more
appropriate. Although Molière’s
can be appreciated when you
know the manners and tastes of a
seventeenth century audience, for
the regular audience, the original is
probably no longer side-splittingly
funny. What really makes this
production a delight is its modernisation.
Perhaps the Misanthrope falls
short only when it is in direct
comparison with the original, but
I’d say it was one of the best plays
to hit the West end in 2009. A
must-see for 2010, the Misanthrope
is clever, beautifully written, and
boasts a brilliant cast.
The Misanthrope is on at the
Comedy Theatre in London, until
13th March 2010.
your son.” he says to Ouisa, without
any sense of doubt, and for all
Ouisa’s desire to help him, she has
no idea to begin.
There is sentimentality here,
certainly, but there is also a certain
underlying truth. Just as there two
sides to Flan and Ouisa’s rotating
Kandinsky, there are two sides to
this story. Is it so wrong to assume
that Paul has any less of a right to
the art and culture he hungers for
than Flan, who, for all his education
and privilege, sees a newly
acquired Cezanne as little more
than a commodity? Certainly, he is
more grateful than Flan and Ouisa’s
children, more willing to learn
from his mistakes than their friends
and more desperate for the lifestyle
that they all take so for granted.
Paul is the only character without
a direct line to the audience, yet as
Ouisa attempts to explain, we are
still only really separated from him
and those like him by six people,
or Six Degrees of Separation. All
the same, when it comes to prison
or freedom, poverty or wealth, it
seems those six people can make all
the difference.