Ruddigore--More Story, Less Time, Eh?

Ruddigore, this season's production by the Harvard-Radcliffe Gilbert and Sullivan Players, is something of a mixed bag. Musically speaking, the show is delightful, with Sullivan's score brought to life by a strong cast and a superb orchestra. But dramatically speaking, it is a disappointment: it suffers from an awkward, complex plot, and with a running time of three hours, is much too long.

Ruddigore's plot is long-winded and strange. The main character, Sir Ruthven Murgatroyd, the baronet of Ruddigore, is hiding in a small English village in order to escape a family curse. A misguided witch doomed each successive baronet to commit one crime a day or be killed. Ruthven left his brother, Despard, back at Ruddigore to assume the title of baronet and fall victim to the curse. Meanwhile, having adopted the clever pseudonym "Robin," Ruthven falls in love with the village sweet-heart, the prissy flake Rose Maybud. For the rest of the first act, Ruthven competes with his unlikely foster brother, the salty sea-tar Richard, for Rose's hand. The first act is also plagued by the appearance of Mad Margaret, a woman supposedly crazed with love for Despard, who comes off less as a humorous character than as a frightening, overplayed British Cassandra.

The whole premise of a curse that forces one to be "naughty" is Britishly weird, and as the driving dramatic element of the plot is inadequate. The second act, set in the castle of Ruddigore with the ninny Ruthven assuming the role of evil baronet, is humorous at first; the effect of the spooky forbears of Ruthven stepping out of their portraits is cool for a while. But when the spirits all start convincing Ruthven to be "bad," it just gets inane and silly. The conversion of Despard and Margaret from the morally loose characters of the first act to puritanical ministers of charity in the second is arbitrary and unconvincing. The conclusion of the drama, with the resurrection of Ruthven's suicidal forbear Sir Roderic Murgatroyd, seems a morbid solution to the flighty plot.

The leads do attempt to lend substance to this thin material. Brian DeVries is charming as the hapless Ruthven, flailing about like a singing Bertic Wooster. Tori Jueds is strong as the prim Rose Maybud, though one gets frustrated with her etiquette-obsessed, lightweight character. Rose is most interesting when interacting with her social opposite and some-time-fiance, the lusty sailor Richard, played on some evenings by Douglas Miller. Richard should be pure comic relief for the audience: a nautical libertine among the prim British. Unfortunately, although Miller's voice is strong and expressive, his stiff, blocky stage presence and emotionless facial expressions make him ill-suited to this comic role.

Perhaps the most compelling performance was given by Danton Charas Ruthven's evil brother Despard. Before Despard's reformation, Char exudes a snaky, sly, and deliciously sinister stage presence; he retains the unnerving cool of a villain even after be reforms, tantalizing the audience with the hopes Despard might return to his former, dastardly but decidedly more interesting ways.

Inevitably the strong performances of the talented leads drown within the boring and inane plot. When Ruddigore was first produced in 1887, the audience began booing and screaming "Bring back the Mikado!" After that, Gilbert and Sullivan had the good sense to trim down the play, and revivals ever since have gone along with these changes. But the Harvard-Radcliffe Gilbert and Sullivan Players have chosen to override these changes and restore Ruddigore to its original clunky form. They do a disservice to their own efforts and their talented cast by turning a potentially entertaining theatrical event into a tiresome muddle.