‘Don Juan’

McCarter Theatre offers a stunning new adaptation of Molière’s 1665 play.

By: Stuart Duncan

Cameron Folmar (left) and Adam Stein in Don Juan at McCarter Theatre.

The most stunning thing about Don Juan at McCarter Theatre is not the lush setting by Kevin Rupnik, although the colors and richness of detail, down to the fourth and fifth grooves, is so exquisite your heart will sing.
   Nor is it the magnificent costuming by Anna Oliver, although each outfit is so perfect it could be painted on the wearer. Nor is it Amy Appleyard’s lighting, which conveys the mood of each segment, even before the dialogue begins. Nor the elegant music, the exciting sword exchanges or the superb acting, even though the company may be the finest to appear at McCarter in years.
   No, the most stunning thing about this Don Juan is the language — not only the elegance that Molière provided with the humor and passions of the era, pricking at the hypocrisy of the times, but more importantly, the new translation that almost imperceptibly blends the modern vernacular with that of past centuries. Just the right adjectives to describe nouns long ill-used; just the proper adverbs to enhance verbs slightly sagging. For this, we must bow once again to Stephen Wadsworth.
   It seems so short a time ago that Wadsworth premiered his first Marivaux at McCarter, thereby opening a new vista to the long-neglected French playwright. Other projects followed, including a pair of Noel Coward triumphs. And we have come to expect miracles — dare we say, take for granted — his unmatched precision of movement, his delicacy of action and reaction and, above all, the unparalleled depths of understanding of our English language.
   Don Juan begins with a stirring prologue, delivered not by the hero for the evening, nor yet the villain, not even the faithful servant. It is a defiant tribute to the playwright himself, a mocking defense of the King’s anger at Tartuffe, his previous work, that so upset the court it was banned. Covered by layers of verbal gauze, the prologue seems to set the tone for the evening’s carnage that inevitably will follow. The audience laps it up hungrily as the company takes early curtain calls, promising both comedy and tragedy.
   But none of it is Molière’s work. It is pure Wadsworth, and it is merely a soupçon of what will follow. Later, the director will introduce a dialogue scene on a "moving sidewalk" that one can predict will become standard comic fare in the future but here is so intriguing that the mind spins in delight.
   We return again and again to the language. It is not the rhymed couplets we have learned to accept for comic intent from Molière translators, but blatant forays into every device known to the grammarians and decades of bespectacled English teachers. We have alliteration popped and pounded across the stage. Actors break up monologues with casual asides. My favorite: "We sure do like to talk about the church around here." Modern vernacular is so cleverly inserted into the conversations, so precise in character, it might well be missed.
   We are in the hands of a master. The cast clearly recognizes that fact and revels in it. Adam Stein (Don Juan) finds shadings seldom searched. Cameron Folmar as Sganarelle, Don Juan’s servant, has a delicious time battling his own conscience and then coming down squarely on the side of indecision. Francesca Faridany is both regal and quivering as Don Juan’s discarded lust image.
   We know that the original play was censored and, when released, chopped beyond recognition. How glorious, then, to have this new translation, adapted by Wadsworth and then directed so as to preclude any deviations. How the playwright would have loved it. And make no mistake — you will, too.
Don Juan continues at McCarter Theatre, 91 University Place, Princeton, through May 19. Performances: Wed.-Fri. 8 p.m.; Sat. 4, 8:30 p.m.; Sun. 2 p.m.; May 19, 7:30 p.m. Tickets cost $30-$43. For information, call (609) 258-2787. On the Web: www.mccarter.org