Sincere Miss Julie Makes a Powerful Statement

The amazing thing about Miss Julie is that the play needs little scenery (only the steps of Leverett House's Old Library, two ladders and a table are used) to convey its societed commentary. August Strindberg wrote Miss Julie as a social narrative that exemplifies the striking similarities between rich and poor.

Jean (Cullen Gerst) and his Kristin (Maile Meloy) serve as Miss Julie's two minion lovers. The play begins with a pseudo-sex scene that makes the audience feel a bit uncomfortable and distracts from the dialogue, but fortunately does not last long.

Miss Julie (Bina Martin) slithers into the scene chomping a banana, intently observing Jean and Kristin in the midst of their mirth. She demands that Jean stop their enjoyment--and asks him to join her upstairs for a dance.

Miss Julie attempts to seduce Jean in an amusing sequence that displays Miss Julie's awkward flirtatiousness and a Jean's tepid masculinity. When Jean finally leads his master's daughter to lose her "virtue," she becomes terribly upset (considering the play takes place in an era when piety determines social standing); Miss Julie fears what her family's friends will think (ironic, considering since she wanted to bed Jean first).

The audience infers through several genealogical references that a streak of promiscuity runs in Julie's family--further evidence of Strindberg's point that sexual vices do not limit themselves to a particular social class.

Miss Julie plots to run away with Jean and open a successful hotel; but since Jean tells her that people will speculate even further if she carries out this plan, she decides against it. She even becomes desperate enough to ask her arch-rival, Kristin, to come along with her. Since Julie is prevented by social pressures from either staying or leaving, she escapes through the typical melodramatic solution--suicide.

Fortunately, Miss Julie's profundity does not drown the play. Director Hans Canosa intersperses humor between the drama to lighten the audience's mood. The play within the play (A Midsummer's Night Dream) that Miss Julie's servants stage somehow culminates in an entertaining fruit fight (complements of Harvard University Dining Services).

This battle of edible ammo, however, is a bit disgusting because the splattered fruit and its juice stay on the floor for the remainder of the show. Little aesthetic appeal exists in watching the actors squish and roll around in fruit.

Despite the annoying bog of mashed food, the main characters deliver their lines with sincerity. Martin exhibits admirable dramatic diversity, ranging from her humorous seduction attempts to her portrayal of Miss Julie's moral quagmire near the end of the play.

Canosa's production abounds with physical interaction in order to give the actors something to do with their hands. This interaction compensates for the lack of props, but could not make up for the scads of garbled dialogue; Strindberg's profound dialogue frequently loses intensity before it reaches listener's ears. Had the actors not shouted so often, all of their speech would have been lost to the rafters.

Canosa utilizes some particularly clever anachronisms--Jeans uses a cordless phone at one point when being called upon by Miss Julie's father--even though it is still approximately the 1800s.

Miss Julie is slightly reminiscent of high school productions--only a lot better acted. It certainly warrants seeing because of the economical use of its meager props.