Review: THE MISANTHROPE at National Theatre, Lyttelton

The production designed by the always excellent Robert Jones, looks utterly ravishing on the Lyttelton stage, and it would be fair to say that NT director Indhu Rubasingham has conjured something which is kinda Molière, but not quite as we have known him — the question is, does this represent an improvement? The play begins as a thoroughly marvellous battle of words and sensibilities between novelist Alice (Sandra Oh on flying form and displaying considerable stage acting chops in her National Theatre debut) and her close friend John (the ever dependable Paul Chahidi). The pair sally back and forth, scoring points and unpicking one another’s viewpoints. Finally, they agree to disagree, and land on a huge, mutually supportive hug to affirm their intention to remain friends and sparring partners.

In the original, Alceste is actually a sanctimonious prig who believes his idealism places him above mere tawdry humanity. You find yourself longing for him to learn life’s lessons the hard way, such is his pomposity. In a modern twist, Alice’s opinion on the internet and its ills, comes across as an idealistic crusade in which her cruel, brutal honesty, trumps mere kindness and the oft disingenuous and hypocritical art of ingratiating diplomacy (or should that be sucking-up sympathy pile-ons?) I suspect many of the assembled press night attendees, felt an affinity.

When Esmée (Imogen Elliott) one of Alice’s die-hard fans, confidently interrupts her at an event and gushingly asks if she would critique her novel, Alice reluctantly agrees under duress from John to be nice, but she imposes strict conditions. Esmée must read aloud the first paragraph and accept an unfiltered appraisal. Unsurprisingly, with the impenetrable self-assuredness of youth, it transpires that Esmée lacks the self-awareness to realise how wholly ostentatious and littered with platitudes her work is, so when Alice’s barbed deconstruction is unleashed, she merely digs-in and defends her drivelsome scribblings by invoking the many complimentary comments she has received from others. Subsequently, she takes to social media with the intention of destroying the very person she claimed to have admired more than any other. Gawd blimey guv, don’t this sound like an altogether familiar story nowadays. The fall-out certainly captures the current cancel culture zeitgeist.

After that promising start, we’re introduced to Alice’s lover, the self-absorbed actor Stefan (Tom Mison) whose former problems with drinking and a professional need to be the centre of attention at all times, make him charmingly unbearable and equally unreliable. Certainly Elaine (Jemima Rooper who plays the mother of his children and a successful orchestra conductor) thinks so, when she feels obliged to drop everything and travel from Paris to salvage an emergency situation entirely of Stefan’s making.

Then matters get a little clunky. The play attempts to assert moralistic points (which include sideways jabs at critics and Trump) through caustic, disjointed scenes. The wheels finally come-off when the production resorts to a surreal and convoluted, chandelier bedecked Louis XVI montage, during which Alice is othered and largely fails in her bid to understand what the heck is going on. I felt some sympathy for her and from the bemused mutterings on the way out, I wasn’t the only one.

The production continues at Lyttelton until 1st August and plays straight through (without interval) with a running time of 1hr 45mins. 

The Misanthrope Tickets