Tour de Farce

LITERATURE IS LANGUAGE. Drama is personal contact. Though many times the twain meet nicely, certain books aren't meant to be spoken aloud, certain plays shouldn't be read. Reading a Moliere farce, for example, means condemning your mind to an endless purgatory of Punch-and-Judy beatings and convoluted accusations of cuckoldry. The lines aren't literary. By themselves, they're not even particularly funny. The play works as comedy only by transcending the meaningless quips to reach the lasting humor beneath.

Comedy based solely on witty little word plays and glib repartee draws on the quirks of contemporary society; within a couple of years it seems dated and worn. Moliere's version of street comedy may not be literary or polished, but it endures, provided the director does not get bogged down in rhymes and plots and instead creates a mood that lends itself to silliness.

Sganarelle, a collection of four Moliere farces presented by the American Repertory Theatre, takes just the right tack. So many painful versions of Moliere have been produced that it comes as a pleasant surprise to see one carried off with style and enthusiasm. Not that a little bit of age doesn't cling to the faded storylines. But it's not the plots that matter nearly so much as the mood, the atmosphere. The ART company infuses the comedies with much of the same spontaneity and lively froth that Moliere's own crew must have brought to them in 17th century France.

Director Andre Serban clearly deserves much of the credit for the success. A noted Romanian director, Serban has long sought to create communication that is pure theatre, Independent of language. In Sganarelle, the words become almost incidental, the actors rushing through their lines as if eager to dispense with them as quickly as possible. And properly so, for the real humor of the show results from the gestures and grimaces set in play. The show succeeds on a complex level, establishing a mood that goes beyond words to reach a solid core of humor.

SERBAN, who first created the Sganarelle collection at Yale four years ago, has almost as much fun with the plays as do the actors. In Moliere's time, the farces that revolve around the stock character, Sganarelle, were part of the commedia dell'arte repertory of his company. The original master could rely on the improvisational technique of a fixed crew of actors to excite and entertain. Serban continues this tradition by having his actors trade roles in each of the four farces. The constant rotation fosters an appreciation for the different inflections of the characterizations, but it also builds a sense of team spirit. Serban drives the point home by bridging the last two farces with a center-stage costume change. Genuinely enjoying themselves, the actors mock the pompous Renaissance trumpet music in the background and banter boisterously about nothing in particular.

The stage is simple, open, bright-unusual for the generally gloomy Loeb. The lighting is all done in bright pastels, the costumes a glorious grab-bag of chiffon and satin that fluff and swirl with every movement. There's little hint given of time or place; the backdrop consists of neutral sheets of off-white canvas, allowing the colorful figures to stand even more distinctly. No curtain cuts off the view. Instead, a soaring contraption of cheesecloth strips covers without concealing. What minimal scenery the stage holds gradually disappears, leaving the set empty for the final two farces, free of all distractions.

Taking full advantage of the open set, characters pop up everywhere, their movements suitably outlandish. Serban has ensured that there is always some action, always some source of fun. At times the production seems more like a series of auditions for sign language school. Someone is always grimacing or gesturing, crawling or running--mostly broad and loud actions, but occasionally a little softer, a bit more restrained, in a welcome counterpoint to the steady diet of high-pitched gusto.

For the most part, the broadness of interpretation suits the play well, for the players express almost stereotypical characters; lawyers, doctors, philosophers, and woodchoppers; fathers, daughters, wives, husbands, brothers and sisters. The crispness of their timing pays tribute to Serban's directorial presence. The succession of escapades which entangle the various Sganarelles come alive precisely on cue. Standing out in particular are the straight-ahead dead-pan and clever mime of Thomas Derrah and the pestering complaints of Richard Grusin, both of whom have a turn in the title role.

In offering up this trimmed and polished collection of popular farces, the American Repertory Theatre has made an auspicious debut for its new season. Taking up a demanding challenge, the performers have brought off a professional production of a consummately theatrical show.