Theatre
Don Juan
Manoel Theatre

Reinterpreting a classic baroque play and adapting it to a modern audience is not easy. This was proven with Molière’s Don Juan, which ran last weekend.

The cat fight between Mathurine and Charlotte was well-choreographed and added some much-needed comic relief to a production which suffered from a considerable amount of drag

Immanuel Mifsud’s modern take on the script in Maltese ­– which was translated from what I assume to be an English translation of the original French and which must have already differed from the original in terms of style ­– was cleverly done. But the interpretation of it left much to be desired.

The rhythms of the Maltese language have particular cadences which require proper pacing and clarity to ensure a coherent and pleasant delivery. Contrary to what many may think, when used properly, the Maltese language has the capacity to be very poetic and has ring and flow to it that lends itself to a baroque flair. What was sadly lacking was precisely the right pacing required to give it that flair.

The introductory scene, that started with the titular character directing what seemed like a stylised rave where a minuet was given a trance rhythm, and the clever use of lighting on Romualdo Moretti’s contemporary set design, promised a good production. However, it quickly became very evident that the production was under-rehearsed as was clear in the delivery of lines, or lack thereof.

Jes Camilleri’s Don Juan seemed rather uncomfortable in his role, despite his strong voice and ideal stature. As the libertine aristocrat who gets his just deserts thanks to the supernatural interference of a statue which comes to life and takes up his offer to dine, his Don Juan lacked presence and often words. (The statue had been the memorial of a commandant whom Don Juan had previously killed).

Manuel Cauchi doubled as the commandant’s statue and as Don Louis, Juan’s conventional father. His tenebrous voice lent itself well to the character he portrayed – as the harbinger of doom to Juan’s debauchery.

Pierre Stafrace’s Sganarelle, Don Juan’s reluctant servant, who seems morally upright by comparison to his master, suffered rather from a pace that was a tad too fast. His interaction with Camilleri thus appeared rather stilted because of the stop-start nature of their language use.

By way of contrast, in her dyad with Sganarelle, Gusman, Lady Elvire’s maidservant, portrayed by Franica Pulis, appeared rather subdued.

Lady Elvire herself, interpreted in earnest by Coryse Borg, made her case cogently in an impassioned diatribe against the man who led her on, who dissuaded her from leading a cloistered life, married her and then left her.

I still felt, however, that Lady Elvire’s character was quite detached albeit the well-interpreted and impassioned performance.

Her brothers, Don Carlos and Don Alonse, were solidly portrayed by Aaron Fenech and Claudio Carta respectively.

The performances I enjoyed the most were Daniel Azzopardi’s Pierrot and Magda van Kuilenburg’s Mathurine in her altercation with Marisa Aquilina’s Charlotte. Azzopardi was the most at ease with his lines, and his delivery and dynamic with the other characters was visibly naturalistic and better paced – from his banter with James Sultana’s Monsieur Dimanche to his profession of love for Aquilina’s dismissive Charlotte, who ditches him for Don Juan without the slightest hesitation.

The cat fight between Mathurine and Charlotte was well-choreographed and added some much-needed comic relief to a production which suffered from a considerable amount of drag.

Speaking of drag, the costumes, entrusted to Nicole Cuschieri and Stefan Vella, appeared rather inconsistent. While I liked the punk take on baroque costume, some other costuming choices seemed like a cross between S&M and Vivienne Westwood’s 1980s phase. The clash was, however, less distracting than the projected English captions on screen-like flats for foreign members of the audience.

From a bilingual perspective, it was rather confusing trying to decide whether to follow the Maltese spoken word or the English written one, but even those who actually needed the translation were finding it hard to read as it was not always properly synched with the actors’ performance.

I felt that Chris Gatt fell into atrap with too many ideas and not enough planning.

More rehearsal time should have been dedicated to the delivery of the lines given that language is the primary vehicle of baroque conceits.