As directed by Jean-Pierre Vincent, once the head of the Comedie Francaise, Marivaux's classic story receives a charming production by the Theater des Amandiers. The Game of Love And Chance was first performed in 1730. This revival ran for more than 100 performances in France and a week in London before crossing the Atlantic for a brief visit at the Kennedy Center's Eisenhower Theater. The set, created by Jean-Paul Chambas, resembles a doll's house; the pink walls of the Orgon home are set far back so the spacious depth of the stage, furnished only with a few chairs, is utilized for the intrigues of young love. A fairy-tale quality is added by the outsize staging, as well as the lighting by Alain Poisson.
As portrayed by Caroline Proust, Silvia, the daughter of the house, is as intelligent and strong-minded as she is beautiful and coquettish. (Glory be to a playwright ahead of his time -- Pierre Carlet de Camblain de Marivaux (1688-1763), for his portrayal of strong women, as well as his extremely French knowledge of the game of love) Marivaux is best known in the United States for his romantic farce, The Triumph of Love, which inspired the 1997 Broadway musical (premiered at Baltimore's Center Stage), featuring Betty Buckley and F. Murray Abraham.) The evening she is to meet her fiancé in an arranged marriage, Silvia persuades her doting father (Guy Parigot) to allow her to change identities with Lisette, her maid (Anne Caillere), so she can observe her fiancé, Dorante (Jerome Kircher). Unknown to her, although not to her father, who received a letter regarding the plan from Dorante's papa, her wary intended has the same idea. Silvia's teasing, yet affectionate brother (Eric Frey) plays his own part in the scam. What in other hands could be an even darker comedy, becomes, in Marivaux's, a lovely romp.
Vincent and his capable company are sly accomplices. Silvia literally throws herself on the floor in paroxysms of anguish, when she learns the truth (although she keeps Dorante in the dark about her own charade until she is satisfied he would love her despite class distinctions). As she sulks on the ground, her apron over her head, Dorante sneaks up behind her and is beside himself after a peek at her lovely legs. The saddest fate is Lisette's, who after a taste of gentility and wealth, must return to subservience and poverty, even if her plight is lightened by the caresses of Dorante's servant, the admiring Arlequin (David Gouchier). Designer Patrice Cauchetier adds to the fun with inventive costumes, such as the foppish, oversized wig and gentleman's suit clumsily worn by Arlequin. The production is in French, and the evening's one blemish is caused by the supertitles.
Translated into colloquial English by Michael Sadler, with the help of advisor Claudia Woolgar, supertitles are posted so high above the stage that seated toward the back of the orchestra section, I needed to choose between reading the lines and watching the players. Hopefully, the front-row seats were sold to French- speaking individuals. As with any fairy tale, the time went swiftly, and instead of the usual rush up the aisles, most of the audience stayed after the two and a half hour performance to show appreciation during the curtain call.
