Theatre
Il-Marid Immaġinarju
City Theatre, Valletta
Seventeenth-century comedy, with its focus on human attitudes and interactions and its fine critique of the manners and ideas of the various social classes from which it drew inspiration, could not be more refined than the French tradition, with Molière being one of its most famous exponents.
His play Le Malade Immaginaire, translated into Maltese by George Cassola and adapted by Dù Theatre under the direction of Chris Gatt, made a welcome comeback last weekend at the City Theatre in Valletta.
With Chrysander Agius playing the wealthy but rather miserly hypochondriac Argan, against Simone Spiteri’s Toinette, his loyal but tough maid-servant, who acts as his voice of reason when he becomes too excessive in his schemes.
Gatt’s stage was already set for a good show with a strong leading duo. However, the good casting choices did not end there. Elaine Saliba’s Angélique, Argan’s elder daughter, was a performance which drew on the local stereotype of the ditzy, spoilt but rather strong-willed girl who will work hard to get her way, whichever way she can, and with Toinette’s approval, help and support, manages to keep seeing Cleante (Jean-Marc Cafà), the nice young man she has fallen for, in spite of her father’s desire that she marries Thomas DeOrea (Daniel Azzopardi), son of a doctor and nephew of his own doctor, Dr PurGatt (also played by Azzopardi).
A good choice of Dù’s to make a comedy debut with a revival
The main reason behind this being of course, selfishness – Argan likes the idea of having a son-in-law who is also about to become a doctor. And selfishness to the point of ridiculousness is precisely what Molière was being highly critical of. This can also be seen in the plot point where his frivolous and gold-digging second wife Beline (Magda Van Kuilenburg), attempts to get him to leave her all his wealth by having the Notary (Pierre Stafrace) confuse Argan and very nearly talk him into it. Stafrace is a very good comic actor as are Agius and Carlos Farrugia who played Béralde, Argan’s sensible brother – in a very funny scene where Ners Fiswa (also Stafrace) is attempting to give Argan his weekly enema, Béralde, attempts to convince him that there is nothing wrong with him and that the medical profession is using his gullibility for profit, resulting in an altercation between Fiswa and Béralde involving the repeated insertion and removal of his clyster-pipe.
With such a clear element of the slapstick, visible not just in this scene, but also in others, as well as elements of the commedia dell’arte and clear in-your-face comedic gags, the play highlighted the theatrical traditions and practices used in the 17th century, while moving away from the typical elaborate costumes and contrived sophistication of previous productions.
Toinette, interpreted with vigour by Spiteri in good form, is brash and loud: a likeable chav with hoop earrings, leopard print tights and a Barbie pink tunic, who puts Agius’s Argan in his place in less time than it takes to say ‘bless you’.
Theirs was a quick dynamic, which helped pick up the pace where it slacked a tad in certain places, oddly enough, the ensemble scenes where a little too much was going on. A rather long jibe at the songs which Malta has competed with at the Eurovision song contest was accompanied by the live band KażinSka – a clever addition, and interpreted in the mock-1980s style which Cafà’s exuberant Cleante took on as his disguise – pretending to be Angélique’s singing teacher.
The entire cast was a host of stereotypes – from the also very 1980s Louison (Franica Pulis), Angélique’s sullen younger sister to Azzopardi’s nerdy and pompous Thomas – whose funny interpretation of an undesirable young man went down well with the audience. Van Kuilenburg’s bold costume designs which deliberately clashed with Aldo Moretti’s clever set made up of boxes of medical supplies and pills, highlighted, just as was the intention in Molière’s time, the character types and her interpretation as the wheedling and selfish Beline, was spot on.
Gatt has managed to navigate Dù Theatre into a new genre for the company – comedy – and has done so creatively while not forgetting to insert some subtle self-referential allusions to the acting profession.
The final scene, where Argan gets a terrible coughing fit, ended the show with a nod to Molière’s own tragic death in the midst of comedy – the playwright died of a haemorrhage which he got during a performance.
Il-Marid Immaġinarju made for good, light entertainment and was a good choice of Dù’s to make a comedy debut with a revival.