A trunk and bits of chain and such have landed outside the curtain. Soon come tumbling out a couple of clowns and, in what's left of tux-and-gown finery, a bedraggled couple. All are survivors of a shipwreck, all inheritors of the commedia dell'arte tradition. Curtain up on an island settled by slaves who escaped their masters and, by extension, a cruel, unjust world. No escaping each other by the contemporary foursome, however. Representing humanitarian values so espoused by Marivaux, mysterious bureaucrat Trevelin (dignified Alex Descas, striking in his blackness and stature) emerges from gusts of smoke to issue "survivors' rules." They must exchange identities and roles completely. Hopefully, this will permanently change their points of view.
Surprisingly most pliable, Euphrosine (wispy Stephanie Lagarde, making clear each psychological adjustment) begins as a would-be briber but eventually takes the most guff, even fool's make-up. Just the opposite, her cowardly spouse Iphicrate (Fabio Zenoni, perfectly uniting frazzle and resistance through plotting) exudes aristocratic disdain for everyone. Amusing to see him falling down the great center-stage dune, his long silk scarf still in place over tattered shirt!
While not as mean as Iphicrate, his servant Arlequin (Sidney Wernicke, clown and able acrobat) enjoys turning the tables on him, loading him with things to carry and calling him names. Full of desire for revenge, fiery Lubna Azabal's maid Cleanthis enjoys berating - and even beating on - the former bosses, even after failing to play up to Trevelin to give her more power. Her dress is much nicer, though. A tea party at which Cleanthis throws a tantrum, offers the old bosses a teapot she then takes away, and threatens to cut off Eurphrosine's hair represents her height of power. After variations on the theme of misused authority followed by willingness to forgive it, reconciliations take place.
With lots of physical activity from chases through vaudeville acts, director Irina Brook avoids standard criticism of 18th century plays, not excluding Marivaux's, that they are mostly dialogue. Here the staging reinforces the dialogue, which never seems forced.
The "moral" occurs just as naturally in an epilogue by Trevelin. Staging harks back to theatrical history, since Marivaux's major successes were those staged by his Italian Commedians. Yet both interpretation and message are never less than contemporary and universal.
