TARTUFFE or THE IMPOSTER
by Molière
Adapted by Roger McGough
Venue: Watford Palace 2011
Adapted by Roger McGough
Venue: Watford Palace 2011
Director: Gemma Bodinetz
ENGLISH TOURING THEATRE
ENGLISH TOURING THEATRE
| Tartuffe is a beacon of piety and in
the home of wealthy merchant Orgon he has his
feet firmly under the table. But all is not as
it seems and as Orgon becomes more enraptured
with his new companion the whole city is
chattering. Is he a friend, a fraud, a
miracle or a hypocrite? The family smell a
rat and amidst the frills and frivolity of
Seventeenth Century society they hatch a cunning
plan to outwit the wily deceiver before he
brings their house crashing down. |
|
| Cast | |
| TARTUFFE | Colin Tierney |
| VALERE | Hiran Abeysekera |
| ORGON | Joseph Alessi |
| MADAME PERNELLE | Eithne Browne |
| CLEANTE | Simon Coates |
| DORINE | Annabelle Dowler |
| DAMIS | Ilan Goodman |
| ELMIRE | Rebecca Lacey |
| MARIANE |
Emily Pithon |
| LOYAL/OFFICER | Alan Stocks |
Reviews
The Times: Sam Marlowe
It caused
ecclesiastical consternation in the 17th century,
but nowadays Molière’s skewering of pious
pretension and rank hypocrisy is unlikely to offend
anyone. Instead, in a 2008 version by Roger McGough,
it’s a ribald, pungent pleasure that presents a
richly funny portrait not just of the timeless
figure of the conman, but of family life. And Gemma
Bodinetz’s bright, brisk revival for Liverpool
Playhouse and English Touring Theatre is a
twinkle-toed delight. Ruari
Murchison’s set of gilt and glass recalls the hall
of mirrors at Versailles, cleverly referencing the
deceptive double images that recur thematically
throughout the play. This is the household of Orgon
who, to the despair of his wife, children and
sharp-eyed maid Dorine, has become besotted with
Tartuffe, an impecunious fraud on the make. So much
so, in fact, that he plans to marry his horrified
daughter to him — though Tartuffe is more taken with
Orgon’s own wife, Elmire.
As played by Joseph Alessi, Orgon is never going to get his way. His pointy moustache bristling, he attempts in vain to assert authority under his own roof; it’s plain from the way Rebecca Lacey’s pulchritudinous, velvet-voiced Elmire smacks her furled fan into her hand that she wears the trousers. Throw in the plotting of Annabelle Dowler’s ingenious, impertinent Dorine, and the rebellion of Emily Pithon’s jolly-hockeysticks airhead Mariane and his effete son Damis (Ilan Goodman), and he’s about as on top of things as Basil Fawlty. As for Colin Tierney’s Tartuffe, his maniacal laughter betrays a devil in disguise: “Rub some more stinging nettles into my hair shirt, will you?” With his ratty beard, rolling eyes and nastily stained cassock, he’s deliciously creepy, and his and Orgon’s bromance — in which Orgon, giddy as a schoolgirl, is all coquetry and cuddles — is hilarious. Orgon is deaf to the advice of his brother-in-law, Cleante (a drily witty Simon Coates); his illusion is only shattered when Tartuffe actually attempts to mount his wife, his filthy, pale naked buttocks quivering with lust.
The ensemble playing is terrific, and Gough’s verse, packed with cheeky rhymes, anachronisms and running gags, is breathtakingly exuberant. Bodinetz handles the mounting frenzy with an aplomb that makes her staging a real treat — elegantly executed, and enormously entertaining.
As played by Joseph Alessi, Orgon is never going to get his way. His pointy moustache bristling, he attempts in vain to assert authority under his own roof; it’s plain from the way Rebecca Lacey’s pulchritudinous, velvet-voiced Elmire smacks her furled fan into her hand that she wears the trousers. Throw in the plotting of Annabelle Dowler’s ingenious, impertinent Dorine, and the rebellion of Emily Pithon’s jolly-hockeysticks airhead Mariane and his effete son Damis (Ilan Goodman), and he’s about as on top of things as Basil Fawlty. As for Colin Tierney’s Tartuffe, his maniacal laughter betrays a devil in disguise: “Rub some more stinging nettles into my hair shirt, will you?” With his ratty beard, rolling eyes and nastily stained cassock, he’s deliciously creepy, and his and Orgon’s bromance — in which Orgon, giddy as a schoolgirl, is all coquetry and cuddles — is hilarious. Orgon is deaf to the advice of his brother-in-law, Cleante (a drily witty Simon Coates); his illusion is only shattered when Tartuffe actually attempts to mount his wife, his filthy, pale naked buttocks quivering with lust.
The ensemble playing is terrific, and Gough’s verse, packed with cheeky rhymes, anachronisms and running gags, is breathtakingly exuberant. Bodinetz handles the mounting frenzy with an aplomb that makes her staging a real treat — elegantly executed, and enormously entertaining.