Putting on an adaptation of a classical work in modern theater is akin to diffusing a bomb. Make too few changes and you risk alienating an audience with language and references dated by hundreds of years, but make too many and you risk losing the qualities that made the work a classic in the first place. Adapting a play from the early 1700s with an entirely new translation would be a particularly perilous affair, but that is just what the Shakespeare Theatre Company aimed to do with its current production of “The Heir Apparent.”
Originally named “Le Légataire Universel” and penned in 1708 by French comedic playwright Jean-François Regnard, the STC and artistic director Michael Kahn commissioned Helen Hayes Award-winning playwright David Ives to devise an entirely new translation of the original.
The new script is subtle at first, placating the audience with references to the Bastille and ever-present rhyming couplets. Then, as soon as we become comfortable with another period piece, a character mentions a Cadillac. A blatant reference to universal health care is made. Someone barges in with a disguise that incorporates an American flag and a raccoon-skin cap! Before long, it is obvious that Ives has taken the “modern” part of modern adaptation very seriously.
And yet for all of its out-of-place references to contemporary trappings, “The Heir Apparent” keeps its classic feel. The dialogue is still predominantly in verse, and the actors handle the language remarkably. The set is appropriate for a 1700-era French mansion and the costumes appropriate for its occupants. Aside from the “new” parts, the core of the show seems to have changed very little in 300 years. This keeps the modern references feeling natural, a breath of innovation instead of the stale and distracting gimmick they could have been.
It’s a good thing too, because “The Heir Apparent” weaves a hysterical yarn. The plot concerns the inheritance of the elderly, dying Garonte and his nephew Eraste, valet Crispin and maid Lisette’s attempts to persuade him to leave it to Eraste. What follows is an archetypal farce, with all the requisite instances of physical comedy, outright vulgarity and mistaken identity (both accidental and otherwise).
Every principal player brings the energy and affinity required for such absurd roles, moving from gag to gag seamlessly and keeping the audience on their toes. Of particular note is Carson Elrod, who as Crispin takes on not one, but three disguises over the course of the show, each one more outrageous than the last.
Although it does not contribute as much to the unconventionality of the show, the set must be given special mention. In true STC fashion, no expense was spared. The action takes place in only one room, but that room is packed to capacity with all manner of clutter. Books, candles, weapons, knick-knacks and unidentifiable objects line nearly every inch of shelves on the ground floor and ceiling.
In the second act after the comedic trio have ransacked the place hunting for Garonte’s gold, these pieces of minutiae have been individually moved and strewn about the room. The attention to detail is marvelous and greatly helps reinforce the image of a man who owns too much and gives little away.
David Ives and Kahn walked the knife-edge of classical adaptation flawlessly with the production. “The Heir Apparent” is funny, irreverent, and most importantly, relevant without feeling like it has abandoned its roots. For a production put on using an entirely new translation, this is a prodigious feat. If Jean-Francois Regnard was alive today, the Le Legataire Universel he would have written would likely closely resemble The Heir Apparent.
thescene@theeagleonline.com
