The Misanthrope

Once again the Poet's Theatre has shown its discrimination by selecting Richard Wilbur's new translation of The Misanthrope for its fall production, and the result is an evening of thoroughly witty entertainment, for which almost all the participants can take credit. If there is anything unsatisfactory in the production--and I think many may feel a slight lack of fulfillment at the close--it stems no doubt from the ambiguity of Molicre's play itself.

The problem centers around the misanthrope, Alceste, nicely portrayed in this production by Peter Davison. As a figure who condemns the false standards of his society, Moliere's character has both comic and tragic elements, and there is some doubt (as the program notes point out) as to how much of the blame for Alceste's failure is his own and how much society's. Although this irresolution is somewhat troubling, it does not detract from the quality of the Poet's presentation. Davison makes the misanthrope's blend of frustration and courage more sympathetic than otherwise, and handles Wilbur's lively and facile translation with an easy authority that characterizes most of the other performances as well.

Given more clearly-defined roles, Eustacia Grandin, Robert Beaty, and William Morris Hunt turn in three excellent performances. Miss Grandin is captivatingly acidulous as Celimene, the coquettish object of Alceste's affections, and certainly makes the most of her own talents and adroit direction in bringing out everything the role has to offer. The good-hearted cynicism of Philinte comes across delightfully in Beatey's highly amusing performances, and Hunt handles the confident pomposity of Oronte with his usual competent vigor.

Among the supporting players, only Gregory Lafayette leaves a considerable amount to be desired. The affectations he adopts are the marquis Acaste seem inappropriate, and are the only heavy-handed touch in the entire production. Edith Owen handles the rather unobtrusive part of Eliante in a gentle and completely suitable manner. But Sonia Grant, although she is funny from time to time, does not seem to make nearly as much of 'Arsinoe as she might. It is difficult to forget that she is acting. Tom Whedon is at his very best in making the effeminate fop Clitandre a most unmitigated poseur, and shows how much can be done with a relatively minor part.

The talents of the actors and the excellence of Wilbur's verse are worthy of Edward Thommen's direction, which shows wit and polish in matters of pacing, blocking, and maneuvering on a very small stage. There can be no argument with his deft exploitation of rather difficult and challenging scenes. The setting by Panos Ghikas and Natalie Johnson's costumes are extremely well-conceived and well-executed, and Paul Des Marais' entr'acte music is nice if brief.

Richard Wilbur and the members of the Poet's Theatre have reasserted their talent in this version of The Misanthrope. Although the production may not overcome the difficulties of meaning in Moliere's resolution, it has vitality and wit of a high calibre.