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Click for ReviewsIt's funny! It's farce! It's French! Hypocrisy is the stuff of great comedy in this hilarious classic. Tartuffe pretends to be a religious, aristocratic hermit while trying to separate a family from its fortune and its women of their virtue. Sponsored in part by
(*) = Post show discussion
REVIEWSOrlando-UCF Troupe Triumphs with 'Tartuffe'Comedic play may be group's best production Now nestled into the Lowndes Shakespeare Center in Loch Haven Park, the group presents shows that are classic in nature. Ranging from 16th century to contemporary, scores of rip-roaring comedies and provocative dramas, otherwise kept dark from these latitudes, have been pushed into the limelight. Written in 1664 by Moliere, "Tartuffe" is a French play of the style that gave birth to the English comedy of manners called Restoration comedy. Women wear décolleté (those naughty innocents) and flutter lacy fans. Holding onto walking sticks and handkerchiefs, prissy men prance about like peacocks and bow with pointed toe, thereby turning out their stockinged leg (be still my beating heart) to reveal an alluring calf muscle. The stage is awash with haughty, overblown caricatures, rococo visuals, expansive movement and so much humor and slapstick silliness that you will laugh throughout. Generally, writers such as Moliere used shallow, one-dimensional characters to chide society's shallow principles. But where real English Restoration comedy playwrights, such as William Congreve, employed names such as "Fainall," "Petulant" or "Lady Wishfort" to suggest a dominant trait in one-sided characters, Moliere counted only on action and dialogue to reveal traits in stock characters. In "Tartuffe," the wealthy Orgon and his mother, Madame Pernelle, become besotted with Tartuffe, a con man who works under the guise of religious piety. Convinced that Tartuffe offers the family's only path away from sin, Orgon tries to force Mariane, his daughter, to marry Tartuffe. Damis, Orgon's son, objects. Here are some more subplots, so typical of the genre: Tartuffe is attracted to Elmire, Orgon's wife. Mariane is in love with Valere. Damis' ineptitude prevents him from being heroic. Certainly, in "Tartuffe," there are plenty of opportunities to create these broad visuals. Translated brilliantly by Pulitzer Prize-winning poet and lyricist Richard Wilbur, former Poet Laureate of the United States, the play is formed by heroic couplets. Characters speak in rhyme, much of it used to a comic intent. Some of the onstage delights include: Richard Width (Valere) in a powder-blue wig and posing with pointed toe; Eric Hissom (Tartuffe) making Orgon think he has transformed water into wine; Kate Ingram (Elmire) seducing Tartuffe; Philip Nolen (Orgon) doing just about anything on stage, but particularly taking snuff and making a grand sneezing exit; Sarah Hankins (Mariane) stomping, pouting and wailing her way through love and torment; and brilliant and promising Tim Williams (Damis), who goes way beyond script to create a most lovable but pathetic hero wannabe; and David Cross (M. Loyal) decked out in a huge fat suit, bowing elaborately and speaking in a French accent. In any play, the designers' role is crucial, but in this production, even more so. It is the design that immediately establishes the production's genre, which tells the audience how to interpret the play. The exaggeration and elegance of the form stands in stark contrast to Tartuffe's somber black robe and scruffy hair. That an elegant man of the house should be so smitten by such a lowly character advances the notion that this is social satire. This is a cynical view of society but is hysterical throughout. REVIEW: Tartuffe - The Orlando WeeklyBy Al Krulick At the opening of Molière's satirical comedy "Tartuffe," now playing at the Orlando-UCF Shakespeare Festival theater, the luxuriously adorned and ornately bewigged family of Orgon, a wealthy Parisian, is arguing over the presence of a man who has taken up residence in the clan's richly appointed estate. In particularly high dudgeon is Orgon's mother, Madame Pernelle, who contends that their houseguest, one Monsieur Tartuffe, is merely a devout votary whose only interests lay in advising her sinful progeny on matters spiritual. Opposing her is Orgon's entire household -- Elmire, his wife; Damis, his son; Mariane, his daughter; Cleante, his brother; and even Dorine, Mariane's wisecracking and supercilious maid. They are convinced that both father and grandmother have fallen under the sway of a religious hypocrite and con man, whose real concerns are decidedly earthbound. Failing to persuade the grand dame, the group then attempts to shake Orgon from his delusions with eyewitness accounts of Tartuffe's horrific behavior. But the enraged paterfamilias only hardens his stance, vowing to give all his property and possessions, as well as Mariane's hand in marriage, to the adopted prelate. Finally, the outraged brood determines that Orgon will only see the truth about Tartuffe's duplicity if he himself catches the scoundrel in an attempted seduction of Elmire, an act that needs very little provocation. Thus is the stage set for one of the theater's most enduring and outrageously humorous tales, expertly brought to life in a rollicking and finely detailed production, directed by Jim Helsinger and beautifully brought off by his spirited ensemble. In fact, nearly everything about this production of Molière's masterpiece is pitch-perfect -- from Jack Smith's sumptuous costumes, to Jason Tollefson's vibrant and colorful lighting, to Bob Phillips' stunning sitting-room set, replete with carpeted, marble staircases and gold-plated banisters. The filigreed stage background also features two large mirrors whose reflections help magnify the many overly refined and self-aggrandizing mannerisms -- the strutting walks, the flitting fans, the artful poses that are typical of the 17th-century French comedic tradition. Utilizing Richard Wilbur's translation of Molière's verse comedy, the cast tears into its dialogue with a winning combination of precise articulation and emotional abandon. Helsinger has made sure that the script never sounds sing-songy, and the fact that the lines all rhyme is never an impediment to the flow of the action or the revelations of the characters' inner lives. But Helsinger has been blessed with some of the area's finest theatrical craftsmen, whose talent and training make them equal to the challenge of wedding Molière's biting wit to his commedia del' arte physicality. All the performers have wonderful moments of zany activity. Sarah Hankins is delightful as the ditsy Mariane. When her marriage plans to the foppish Valere begin to go awry, her mournful howls of teen-age angst are suitably outlandish and wonderfully droll. Mindy Anders shines as Dorine, the maid, who is much brighter than the people she serves, and Kate Ingram is deliciously appealing as Elmire, the object of Tartuffe's unbridled lust. Her X-rated seduction scene, in which various members of the fruit family are handled in a most unladylike manner, may not be suitable for children but should not be missed by those past the age of consent. Most enjoyable is witnessing the reunion of three of the Shakespeare Festival's most accomplished comedians, last seen together in "Around the World In 80 Days." Kudos go to Richard Width as Valere, who can provoke laughter with a simple turn of a stockinged ankle; Eric Hissom, whose athletic and risible antics serve to give the odious Tartuffe a patina of likability; and the miraculous Philip Nolen, whose singular comic brilliance imbues the frazzled Orgon with a sympathetic air of dignity despite his utterly foolish and bombastic personality. Helsinger and his Shakespeare Festival have mounted a magnificent showing of this 17th-century classic. Only a hypocrite would say it isn't so.
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Last Updated: 05/06/2007 Copyright Orlando Shakespeare Theater |