The 17th-century play, staged by the theater company Molière in the Park, skewers those who preach morality yet practice anything but.
I like to think that Molière, the great French playwright who died in 1673, would have really enjoyed the flagrant hypocrisy of our current political moment. Each month seems to bring new duplicities and new scandals, lies big and small — the résumés embroidered like Rococo tapestries, the lawmakers endorsing conspiracy theories to boost their careers. A devotee of prevarication and double-dealing, Molière would have made the most, in three acts, of stories like these. In some ways and in multiple plays, he already has. More than 350 years dead, he can seem effortlessly, wickedly contemporary.
But a current production of “Tartuffe,” presented by the theater company Molière in the Park, drawing from the playwright’s original version, takes a different approach. A cause célèbre in 1664 when it was written, the play was quickly banned by an archbishop with a limited sense of humor. It skewers not only those who preach morality while practicing alternatives, but also the toadies and dupes who keep people like that in power. Sounds pertinent, doesn’t it? This slick, streamlined production, however, staged outdoors in Prospect Park by the director Lucie Tiberghien, is so busy stomping around its small stage that it never reaches out into the present.
The English-language premiere, which credits Maya Slater as its translator, has simplified the original, reducing the number of characters and mostly dispensing with the third act. When “Tartuffe or The Hypocrite” begins, Tartuffe (Matthew Rauch, oilier than a perfect New York slice), a priestly figure, is already installed in the home of Orgon (Yonatan Gebeyehu), a wealthy man. Orgon’s wife, Elmire (Michelle Veintimilla), and his son and brother-in-law all see through Tartuffe, but Orgon and his mother refuse to believe ill of him. Eventually, Tartuffe propositions Elmire. But even this doesn’t sway Orgon. He would rather disinherit his own family than believe his own wife.
Molière in the Park first staged “Tartuffe” nearly three years ago, with a different cast and using a different translation. That was a pioneering work of Zoom theater, presented back when most of us were still figuring out how to use the mute button. (A live version, with a somewhat changed cast, followed a year later.) In his New York Times review, Jesse Green called the streamed show “full of delight for our undelightful time” and praised the production’s allusions to the Trump White House and Black Lives Matter. So how strange that this production, despite its modern dress, resists contemporary allusion entirely, reducing “Tartuffe” to a pedestrian domestic farce.
Under Tiberghien’s direction, the play begins in high energy and high dudgeon, with most of the characters racing around the stage — a square set atop another square — and speaking couplets speedily, long before the audience has any understanding of what’s what and who’s who. That stage is plopped into the middle of a circular plaza at the park’s LeFrak Center, which serves as an ice-skating rink in the winter and a splash pad in the summer. The play, which is relentlessly interior, seems disconnected from this environment.
And at the matinee I saw, it failed to connect with its audience — or at least the several dozen middle school students in attendance, who napped, whispered, fidgeted and surreptitiously checked phones. Teenagers are, like Molière, keen to discover and condemn adult duplicity. But barring a slow-motion sequence at the play’s end, they found little to divert or engage them. As both teenagers and headline readers know, we are in a moment of pervasive political and religious insincerity. Someone should tell this “Tartuffe.”
Tartuffe or The Hypocrite
Through May 27 at the Prospect Park LeFrak Center, Brooklyn; moliereinthepark.org. Running time: 1 hour 20 minutes.
Source: Theater - nytimes.com
