THE SCHOOL FOR WIVES
THE SCHOOL FOR WIVES, Bell Shakespeare Company at the Playhouse, Sydney Opera House, October 25-November 24, 2011.
In 1993, Bell Shakespeare Company staged their first Romeo and Juliet in which the tragic young heroine was played by Essie Davis in her first major role out of NIDA. A year short of two decades later, Davies is considered by many to be one of the greatest actresses ever to come out of Australia. And now, on the back of a five-month national tour that is a uniquely valuable for a young actor, Bell Shakespeare Company is – let's bet – launching another brilliant career in casting Harriet Dyer, another very recent graduate - from the Actors' Centre.
Dyer plays the naive young woman Agnes, ward and unwitting puppet of Moliere's anti-hero, Arnolde (John Adam). He is a man who will stop at nothing to secure the wife of his dreams: a perfect twit. To achieve this end he has kept the poor girl in seclusion with the express intent of making sure she has developed not a single independent thought, knows nothing about anything, cannot write nor read and will therefore be the ideal helpmeet. It is impossible not to think of Tony Abbott and his ilk while listening to this delightful if staggeringly offensive twaddle.
Moliere was joking of course – well, one hopes so – but although the original play was written some 350 years ago (translated and re-rhymed quite exquisitely by Justin Fleming) it has way too much in it that reeks of neo-misogyny to be entirely ha-ha-ha for a 2012 audience. So, laughter is frequent but underneath it are lurking suspicions that although this is a farce, what we've been witnessing lately - in parliament and elsewhere - means it's hard to dismiss it as simply another nice night's entertainment.
Director Lee Lewis began the process that became this production more than six months ago. Since then it has been trekking around the regions - meeting success and enthusiasm, particularly from young audiences - and Lewis has become artistic director of Sydney's iconic and important big-little Griffin Theatre Company. It's an appointment that's been welcomed by Sydney theatre and, after her last, beautiful, production for Bell (the Aussie bushfire setting for Twelfth Night) this witty reimagining of the French farce suggests Griffin is in for an exciting time.
There is quite a lot of old silent Hollywood in School For Wives although it's set in 1920s' Paris. This is the movie world on the cusp of talkies – when everyone is still under the broad influence of burlesque and the idea of pulling back a performance for the screen is yet to be dreamed up. The setting is a clever series of black and white pictorial flats, cut out frames and a scaffolding tower – all on wheels – and these are shunted about as the company is similarly choreographed around and through it (Penny Baron). And it works well both for the play and also because of the couple of dozen theatres in which it has had to fit – and work. (Design Marg Horwell, lighting Niklas Pajanti.)
As it is, Arnolde – knowingly suave and silly in the Dick Dastardly tradition – sees nothing on the horizon to disturb his martinis or the beautiful cut of his suits until young Horace happens along (Meyne Wyatt, another starry newcomer who's now a tour veteran). This cheeky spunky, chappie falls for Agnes and vice versa, for reasons that surpasseth easy explanation, he confides in Arnolde and sets in train the machinations of the rest of the plot. This involves Arnolde's maid and butler and assorted hangers-on. (Splendidly Marcel-waved Alexandra Eldrich – who lends a touch of Almodovar to the show – Jonathan Elsom, Andrew Johnston and Damien Richardson.)
This kind of play does not bear close scrutiny, nor deep analysis. Part-panto, part Keystone comedy, it rollicks along depending on the energy and skill of its cast and their conviction in portraying total nonsense. This aspect is highlighted by actor-muso Mark Jones, on stage at a honky-tonk piano and surrounded by a wide selection of dorky FX. He keeps an eye on the players at all times and so Kelly Ryall's appositely period interlude-style music links and smooths the stage antics and adds another laugh track.
The world-weary sophisticate might groan – and some of the gags are magnificently awful – but as a rumbustious night out, anchored by two fabulous performances from John Adam and Harriet Dyer, School For Wives is the learning curve you had to have to get you through to the silly season.
