Psychedelic Enemas
By Molly Miller
December 11 2007
A few weeks ago, I had the opportunity to see Molière’s “The Imaginary Invalid” performed by the theatre department at Saint Benedict College in St. Cloud, MN. I chose this performance (a tough decision out of many productions) because I feel so strongly about this production.
I went to the college, not knowing what to expect and came out not really knowing what I felt. The play was entertaining and I laughed a lot, however, it failed to uphold the Molièrean ideals. Theatre has an obligation not only to its audience, but to those who create it. This production of “The Imaginary Invalid” fell short of this obligation because it made the play seem trite and meaningless.
When I first arrived at the college, I was allowed to see the stage on which the play would take place. The set, I’ll admit, was gorgeous! It consisted of six or seven pieces of almost see-through fabric draped at angles from the lights down to the stage floor. The floor itself was painted with multi-colored circles. The set was whimsical and graceful, almost ethereal, the perfect place for Molière’s sardonic humour.
As the house lights dimmed, the props were rolled on stage by the actors. A big, pastel, purple and green closet was the first to be set onstage. In all its non-symmetrical glory, it leaned over as if it was a melted candle right out of Dr. Seuss’ birthday cake. Following it, came a large bed with frilly, fluffy pillows and a top-heavy side table filled with large, bubble bottles. Soon couches and chairs joined the mismatched party of furniture, adding their puke-inspired colors to the aura of fantastical zaniness.
The costumes and wigs upheld this bedlam of layer-cake putrescence. Characters flounced about in frothy garments of every hue ever invented by Walt Disney’s cartoon department. To top off the swirls of gooey fluff, each actor was coiffed in a dollop of frosting “hair.” These wigs were made out of everything, but hair itself… sponges, faux fur, wire, terrycloth, yarn, and flowers.
The insidious accents mimicked the garish costumes and set. The actors smothered the dialogue in everything from French accents to speech impediments. These voices strangled and fought the lines until the meaning was distorted. There was also a conscious decision in the production to add ‘bodily-function’ humor which literally covered up what Molière had to say. The sound effects crew was constantly adding bathroom noises over the lines of the characters. They especially liked to cover up Toinette’s lines, which I find most unnerving because Toinette is the voice of reason. I thought her voice would hold more value than just lines to overlook with crude and obnoxious noises.
Everything was well made, and I’m usually impressed by creative design, but they pushed it too far. It is true that Molière intended his plays to be funny, but not a big carnival! It is very hard to get anything out of a play when one can’t even understand the lines, or hear them over the farting. In some ways, it seemed more like the production was put on to make fun of the play, not to promote what Molière wanted to say. The set, instead of reinforcing Molière’s ridicule, made him seem ridiculous with carts of maniacal medical devices and a bazooka-sized enema gun. The cartoonish costumes distracted the audience from the substance that lives within his characters. Instead, they became caricatures.
All these factors made me realize that this was no longer a world in which we, the audience, could identify. There was nothing to connect us with Molière’s world. Theatre is supposed to draw in an audience with suspended belief in order to allow them to be affected by the author’s experience. The audience should leave a little bit richer in knowledge and understanding about themselves. Instead of doing this, this production of “The Imaginary Invalid” presented Molière’s play as nothing more than a fluffy farce.
“A director’s first priority is to the playwright and the play.” This production would have killed Molière.
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