In announcing their presentation of Moliere’s riff on the Don Juan legend, The National Theater of the United States of America promised “a production so authentic that it rivals in authenticity Moliere’s own 1665 production at the Palais-Royal in Paris.” As we learn in an opening monologue, their tongue-in-cheek press release prompted one critic to sniff, “I see there is no translator mentioned. I assume you will be doing it in the original French.” Ah, touché! But director Jonathan Jacobs’s idea of authenticity is to coax out the farcical spirit of the original with a sort of lavish amateurishness that proves irresistible from the show’s first beat.
Using every inch of the basement space at the Chocolate Factory to great effect, Jacobs has the audience huddled together on low stools in the center of the room, with the show swirling by in a 360 degree panorama, staged in front of painted backdrops suggesting idyllic 17th century Spanish landscapes. It’s a fun romp and boldly intimate, with actors galloping by inches from your face, wearing absurdly opulent costumes and brawling to a clever soundtrack of swishing swordplay and cartoonish fisticuffs. Moliere’s story follows the lecherous and irreligious Don Juan as he mercilessly breaks hearts and dodges death at the hands of a spurned lover’s brothers. In Moliere’s day, the play was censored for mocking Church piousness; in today’s Queens it’s just a wildly imaginative good time - though a paper mache Christ serves a dual purpose that might ruffle orthodox feathers.
With the exception of Aimee McCormick Ford, whose portrayal of Don Juan’s spurned lover Dona Elvira sinks into an all-too-easy parody of melodramatic acting, the exuberant cast hums through their paces with just the right balance of outlandishness and earnestness. As the foppish Don Juan, Yehuda Duenyas tones down the machismo, playing a player who gets tail on the strength of his expensive perfume, fancy threads and enormous self-regard. Portraying his valet Sganarelle, a role Moliere performed himself, Jesse Hawley is endearingly droll, and some of the funniest performances come from the other servants, who get laughs by simply standing and pouring sweat. A hilarious topless cameo by Ford - as a robber with copious chest hair - is outdone only by the surprise of the production’s climactic coup de theatre, which sees Don Juan sucked into a sensational portal to hell, hidden away in a corner of the Chocolate Factory I’ll steer clear of in the future.
Don Juan or The Feast with the Statue continues through March 8th at The Chocolate Factory [5-49 49th Avenue, Long Island City]. Tickets cost $15; Thursday night performances are free for Queens residents.
Photo of Yehuda Duenyas by Maedhbh McCullagh.
