This may be the perfect play for our times- and that is not a compliment. Les Liaisons Dangereuses is full of moral corruption, dirty dealing, and the most distasteful characters who ever elicited a laugh onstage. If you think rape and cruelty are funny, you’ll find this hilarious. La Marquise de Merteuil is bored. As played by the exquisite Janet McTeer, she is beautiful, elegant, and great at faking affection for those she intends to harm. An interesting undertone is a latent lesbianism; more than once, she yearns to seduce her target, Cecile Volanges (Elena Kampouris), herself. Cecile has been released from the convent to marry a nobleman who has wounded Merteuil. On a dare from Merteuil, his old lover, Le Vicomte de Valmont (Liev Schreiber) agrees to seduce Cecile, although he considers the challenge beneath him; it will just be too easy. Instead, he’s set his sights on the lovely Madame de Tourvel (Birgitte Hjort Sorensen), a virtuous married woman who is currently staying with Valmont’s aunt, Madame de Rosemonde (Mary Beth Peil). Although Cecile is besotted with the uninspiring Le Chevalier Danceny (Raffi Barsoumian), she enthusiastically embraces, in both senses of the word, the “teaching” proffered by Valmont. Although there is some mild tittering from the audience, the rape scene isn’t appealing in any way. Cecile’s gimme more reaction is the wet dream of many a frat boy and makes Cecile seem even blonder and more stupid than is at first apparent. It’s all but impossible to stretch the imagination to consider that what transpires is even credible. It’s just not obvious what’s irresistible about this Valmont; he’s simply more boorish than charming. The real disappointment for me in this staging is the lack of costume variety. These glorious gowns (the gray-blue of Merteuil, minty blue-green for Cecile, and mauve for Tourvel) should be changed often. These were women who had servants, personal maids whose duties revolved around getting Madame in and out of progressively more intricate dresses throughout the day. I don’t doubt that a large part of the nastiness born out of boredom had to do with a life focused on exactly which frock was required for breakfast, tea, receiving, social occasions, on and on throughout tedious day and year. This is an interesting interpretation, with shabby walls, entrances wrapped in gauze, and spooky singing. Delights include getting to see Mary Beth Peil, an actress who always brings joy and grace onstage; the glitzy to-die-for chandeliers, which lower and raise; and McTeer’s silky voice and manner. Still, the production feels slow, and this is a play which no longer shocks as it once did. We’re left with the uneasy feeling that the eighteenth century is not much different from our own twenty-first. Deception, lechery, and systematic disillusion are rampant in both eras. Those who are preaching revolution would do well to remember what became of the Valmonts and Merteuils at the end of their century. When blood is hot, things don’t always go as planned.
