Fortune's Fool, Turgenev's mid-nineteenth-century play is more of a valid drama for today than most plays written in the last decade. Its people have deep feelings and deep inner pain and find themselves in a moral dilemma. And how brilliant are two of today's finest actors: the great farceur Frank Langella and the amazing Alan Bates, who gives us long monologues without a moment that isn't fascinating. What a privilege to see a master like Bates play a character who declaims while getting progressively drunker -- it's one of the all-time great drunk scenes. You feel for him and his anguish and marvel at his performance. And Langella, a world-class snidemaster, hilariously balances the stage with his hauteur.
Enid Graham as the young wife and George Morfogen as a friend are fine, but the rest of the cast is uneven, with Benedick Bates miscast (or perhaps misdirected in Act 1) as the young husband. I counted seven different accents, several physical styles. Director Arthur Penn either put all his effort into the two masters, Langella and Bates, or let them alone to do what they know how to do: be powerful presences who make their characters blaze with a theatrical light. The work of John Arnone (sets), Jane Greenwood (costumes) and Brian Nason (lighting) is all first rate.
