REVIEW: The Miser by Molière, translated by Freyda Thomas, at Chester Little Theatre

Being French myself, I studied Molière’s plays at school in the same way that Shakespeare is studied in the UK.

My neighbour, Jane Barth – a long-time supporter of Chester Little Theatre, thought it would be interesting to have this English production reviewed by someone exposed to the original Molière, so what follows are my two sous’ worth of thoughts about Chester’s version of this French classic.

Molière holds a very special place in France’s love affair with theatre classics by introducing a new genre: the Comedy of Manners. In an era when Tragedy was thought to be the highest dramatic form, Molière raised the curtain on Comedy by using traditional farce, stirring in a pinch of drama, a spoonful of witty social satire and ounces of sparkly burlesque. Molière’s spotlight fell on human faults (such as greed and the love of money), denouncing bourgeois social practices, and bringing to the stage issues of everyday French society.

In The Miser, Molière’s greatness surely lies in his talented use of ridicule and brilliant build-up of misunderstandings until the penny finally drops. Even Voltaire, famous philosopher of the Enlightment and admittedly one of the ‘unfunniest’ writers ever, did approve of L’Avare’s prose by claiming that “the public needs marked features, strong ridicules and passionate impertinencies”. Meanwhile, Goethe stated that “The Miser, in which vice destroys all the piety that unites father and son, has an extraordinary greatness and is to a high degree tragic”. Rousseau (the Swiss philosopher, not the tax collector) thought L’Avare an immoral play, considering money-lending a vice; yes, but surely not as bad as the son’s insolence towards his stingy father!

What’s not to love about The Miser? It talks about “l’amour” (what else?), abusive parenting and greed. However, if 17th century French phrasing, verbal jousting and pages-long cases of mistaken identity can still delight across the Channel, “oui-tticism” (get it?) does not always translate well. Luckily, this version of The Miser has everything to please the 21st century British public: colourful period costumes, punchlines and a certain English “je ne sais quoi”.

Freyda Thomas’s English version of The Miser is actually pretty truthful to the original plot, even to the core of some of the highlights: Harpagon’s sheer apoplexy and unbounded despair at the theft of his money was one of those moments that did not disappoint (merci, John Turner!). Cléante’s love declaration to Marianne under his father’s nose and Valère’s failed manipulative attempts at changing Harpagon’s mind over his daughter’s marriage, maintained the original cleverly twisted intentions (chapeaux/hats off, Messieurs!). The ladies’ assertive resistance against the Miser showed some genuine girl power and gave credit to Molière’s “feminist sympathies” (champagne, Mesdemoiselles!).

Very interestingly, the whole play also adapted the comical aspects (mimics, ample gestures, caricature of personality traits, twists and turnarounds and social satire) to appeal to a very British sense of humour: by (tenderly) taking the mickey out of continental Europeans. Chef extraordinaire Maître Jacques’s twirling and unabated love of food was so passionately played that he would put to shame any French cook. Inspector Sansclou’s detective work was impeccably Clouseau-esque, Señor Anselme and Valère’s three-line-long family name was breathtakingly pronounced, and the German “Nein, nein, nein!” said it all.

Finally, the play did highlight some contemporary British social realities: “the economic downturn” was mentioned a few times, and Harpagon’s heartfelt plea to “give me back my money!” would have made Margaret T. and Theresa M. very proud.

The next production at Chester Little Theatre will be A Bunch of Amateurs by Ian Hislop and Nick Newman, running from Saturday 9 to Saturday 16 March at 7.30 pm. Go to www.chesterlittletheatre.co.uk for booking details.