Thieves' Carnival

Jean Anouilh burst forth in the 1930's as the bright young man of French theatre. His Thieves' Carnival (Le bal des voleurs), written in 1932 when he was only 22 years old, is currently the second offering of the Boston Summer Theatre Festival, and a welcome one it is.

Recently back into prominence in America with The Lark and Waltz of the Toreadors, Anouilh divides his output into four classes--pieces roses (rosy, pleasant plays), pieces noires (sombre, unpleasant plays), pieces brillantes (shining plays), andpieces grincantes (grating plays). Thieves' Carnival is a piece rose, a delightful comedy of wit and frolic. But even here, every once in a while little undertones of sadness poke through the surface.

The whole show is an artificial fantasy woven around a master thief and his two young apprentices who get themselves invited to the summer estate of a wealthy British couple and plan to rob the latter of their valuables and their nieces. An example of the frivolous boulevardier school of writing, the play harks back in form and style to the tradition of the commedia dell' arte, of Moliere and of Marivaux.

Balanced Characters

Anouilh has conceived of his main characters in pairs, which balance off against each other in perfect classical symmetry. There is the rich, middle-aged Lady Hurf and the poor, middle-aged master thief Peterbono, each constantly trying to outwit the other. There are the two young nieces and the two young apprentice thieves; the gay niece pursues the sad thief and is repulsed, while the gay thief pursues the sad niece and is repulsed. Elderly Lord Edgard wants peace and quiet; the youthful musician thrives on sound and activity. There are Dupont-Dufort pere and fils, who always dress alike--the father trim and intelligent, the son fat and dull-witted; and they fall into the hands of a pair of cops, who of course also dress alike.

This production, using the standard translation by Lucienne Hill, has been staged by Warren Enters, who directed it a few seasons back for its highly successful off-Broadway run. He is inventive and clearly knows what he is about, abetted by Jack Brown's serviceable sets and Al Petruccelli's effective lighting. On opening night, some of the bubbles had escaped from Anouilh's effervescent champagne; but by now the performance should be consistently heady.

The Actors and Actresses

It is a pleasure as well as a rarity to report that no one in the cast shows a serious fault. All the players do more than just deliver their lines, and thus all create more than cardboard characters.

Melville Cooper has a wonderfully sheepish face for the role of the chief thief, and is hilarious in his series of outrageous disguises. The roles of his proteges, the ardent Hector and the morose Gustave, are well entrusted to Lawrence Spector and John Reese. Guy Sorel makes the most of his mainly silent role as the hen-pecked Lord Edgard. David Bauer is properly reserved as the older Dupont-Dufort; and the endomorphic slob the latter sired is highly amusing in the hands of Tom Bosley.

Although her delivery at the premiere was a bit too leisurely, Marjorie Gateson has fun with the best role in the play, that of Lady Hurf, who proclaims herself "born a piece of old carpet" and "disintegrating with boredom." Jane McArthur brings sparkling eyes, a beautiful pony-tail coiffure and the buoyancy of Susan Strasberg to the part of the 20-year-old niece. As the elder niece Eva, Monica Lovett shows her inward sadness and disillusionment in good Donna Reed fashion. Lance Cunard and Dalila Mockapetris fill out smaller roles.

The Dancing

It would be a mistake to regard Thieves' Carnival solely as a play. Anouilh went back to some of the Moliere works and resurrected the term comedie ballet. For its full effect, this show relies heavily on dancing. The roles of the Musician, the two policemen and the nursemaid are all dancing parts.

The most important of these is the Musician, a dancing clarinetist who weaves in and out of scenes, connects scenes or bridges the passing of time. I once saw this part executed by a fellow who danced while actually playing a clarinet; but such a combination is hard to come by. In this production, Tom Hasson (who devised all the choreography as well) is the Musician. Elmer Gordon's perky and carefully articulated music is expertly played offstage by the talented young clarinetist Paul Epstein, who is also called on to play the tambourine. Onstage, Hasson fingers a clarinet silently in remarkably close synchronization with the off-stage sounds. His capers and studied poses are always attractive.

Sylvester Campbell and George Liker are the policemen as well as the auxiliary dancers that appear periodically. As was the case with last week's play, the set change is effected as part of a ballet. (Actually, the credit goes to the New York production of Thieves' Carnival, from which this idea was later borrowed for Volpone in New York and here.) Liker dances well indeed, though he seems a bit heavy.

Campbell, however, is really outstanding. He has a fine build and has obviously received excellent training. He moves with facility and grace, and his leg work is superb. He is as fine a dancer of his age as I have ever seen. I understand he is about to tour Europe with a young ballet company; he merits watching when he gets back to New York, for he has the makings of a true danseur noble.

In sum, this frolicsome, inoui comedy from Anouilh is guaranteed to keep you from ennui.