Richly textured and authentic, Vicki S. Holden's wonderful costumes clothe a drama that's anything but. One reason Dumas pere's "The Count Of Monte Cristo" has proven so commercially viable is that he peopled a moving, interesting story that began with a fateful voyage and ended with a romantic sailing into the sunset. No such full circle in the plodding, often dull knock-off that Asolo Theater Company commissioned. (It is hoped this World Premiere was cheaper than paying royalties to one of those publishers of warhorses for pre-college school performances.) Basically, the story tells of Edmond Dante's betrayal and revenge.
Conspired against by four villains (Fernand, who wants his fiance; Villefort, whose incriminating politics Edmond might reveal; Danglars, who conceives the plot to gain wealth; and Caderousse, an envious neighbor of Edmond's father), Dantes is sent to prison, unknowingly accused of being a Napoleonic spy. As years in Chateau d'If lead to near despair, he comes across Abbe Faria, who teaches him languages and lore, including hidden whereabouts of a fortune, and whose death affords him means of escape. Having resurrected himself as Count of Monte Cristo, site of his newfound wealth, Edmond returns like a ghost (Patrick James Clarke has the chalky face and hair to make the symbolism obvious) to avenge himself and related victims.
Chock full of awkward exposition, the adaptation could nonetheless benefit from some historical and geographic legends instead of people talking out loud to themselves. After almost five years imprisoned, Edmond seems just to have begun questioning why, and he doesn't show much anger at his tormentors. To prevent him starving himself (why is not explained), bread and wine are ordered; the symbolism is passed over, and they come like a pizza delivery. His many years with Faria pass quickly (a shame, for David S. Howard's performance as that learned priest is a highlight) whereas Edmond's later revenge machinations seem stretched.
As his fiance, Devora Millman returns to the company, making it clear Mercedes never stopped loving him though, after his disappearance, she wed Fernand. We can understand her better than Edmond seems to; Millman makes us share her concern over his plans for her son (sympathetically played by Eric R. Uppling). Steve Wilson's Fernand, however, is unabashedly villainous, as is David Breitbarth's dastardly Villefort. As his former paramour, whose baby by him they thought he'd buried alive, Tessie Hogan keeps a pretty profile and straight face (admirable, considering she's been almost type-cast; she's a similar baby-losing mother in another Asolo play this season). Wife of Danglars, now a rich banker (Douglas Jones, projecting greed naturally), she's also a lover to be cast off (again!) by David Baecker's namby-pamby Debray. If ever parts could have been edited, these were they, though that of her legitimate daughter and surviving-unknown-to-her son come close.
Various brigands as well as lovers come and go confusedly, but who except Edmond cares? Bradford Wallace is properly pitiful as Edmond's father. Allen Gilmore as Caderousse has to keep popping up to be jealous and little else. A subplot involving Haydee (spirited, pretty Aubrey Caldwell), daughter of the ruler whom Fernand betrayed, lends an underplayed touch of history and the exotic. Except for the unimaginative, stony set, the production is wasteful and, without exception, wearying.
