Even if you majored in French literature in college, you might not recognize the tile of the play that just opened at the Shakespeare Theatre: “The Liar” by Pierre Corneille. Corneille is generally known for his tragedies, but this farce, as translated and adapted by David Ives and directed by Michael Kahn, is astonishingly fresh, funny and totally available to modern audiences.
‘The Liar’
Where: Lansburgh Theatre, 450 Seventh St. NW
When: 7:30 p.m. Tuesday, Wednesday, Sunday, 8 p.m. Thursday to Saturday, 2 p.m. Saturday and Sunday, noon May 19; through May 23
Info: $20 to $87; 202-547-1122; shakespearetheatre.org
“The Liar” is set in the gardens of Les Tuileries in the spring of 1643. Corneille’s central character is Dorante, a young man just out of law school who finds it impossible to tell the truth. He comes to Paris and flirts with the beautiful Clarice, trying to impress her with invented feats of military prowess. A case of mistaken identity allows Dorante to assume that the woman he admires is named Lucrece. That single mistake is the basis for two acts full of jealousy, accusations, assignations, a duel and uninterrupted lies from Dorante.
The plot is baroque and outlandish, but Ives has pruned and shaped it neatly so that even its illogicalities make sense. He has written the play in pentameter, creating an evenly flowing sound, full of hilarious rhymes and puns, then injected some unexpected modernisms, like “wow” and “gosh.” He has kept Corneille’s basic structure and social satire. And it all works.
Kahn’s direction reflects the nature of the text: It is measured but rapidly paced, comprehensible and never dull. He directs his cast to make every moment of life with Dorante a bit of absurd pleasure. Christian Conn does the impossible in the role of Dorante: to remain charming no matter how outrageous his lies become. Clarice is played by Erin Partin as an elegant, headstrong young Parisienne. Her best friend, Lucrece, is an equally independent young lady; as played by Miriam Silverman, she is intelligent and one of the comedy’s most intriguing characters. Adam Green as Cliton, Dorante’s servant, is the voice of reason, the only person who doesn’t believe his master’s boasts. David Sabin, Tony Roach, Aubrey Deeker and Colleen Delany round out the talented ensemble.
The visual properties of this production are as easy on the eye as its words are on the ear. Alexander Dodge’s set uses schematic, rectangular trees in the Tuileries Gardens, a visual reminder that this is no conventional, realistic play. For the indoor scenes, lighting designer Jeff Croiter bathes Dodge’s delicate chairs and crystal chandeliers with gentle green and lavender tones.
Adam Wernick’s zesty music suggests 17th-century classics played on a harpschichord by a modern jazz master. Murell Horton’s costumes are handsomely detailed: satin gowns with full skirts and puffy sleeves for the women; short velvet capes, leather boots lined with lace, broad-brimmed hats decorated with two-toned feathers for the men.
In the program notes, Ives explains what must be done in order to successfully turn Corneille’s play into an acceptable comedy for contemporary, English-speaking audiences, and it has nothing to do with line-by-line translation: “you have to write the play Corneille would have written today, in English,” he says. Happily for everyone fortunate enough to see this production, Ives has done just that.
