★★★☆☆
Three Stars
Theatron Novum’s production of The Doctor in Spite of Himself, Molière’s mini-farce, is a joy to watch. It’s quaint, well cast, fairly energetic and actually quite funny for a translation of 18th Century French comedy. Given that Molière is often touted as the prince of the Western comic canon, I was expecting a little more wit and cleverness, and, to be sure, some of the humour was wasted by lacklustre delivery. But I came away with that peculiarly satisfying feeling of getting exactly what I paid for – a well-conceived, competent, lightly funny amateur production of a classic French farce.
The set-up is stereotypically absurd: a woodsman-cum-drunkard, Sganarelle (Tim O’Leary), is nothing but a source of perpetual misery for his longsuffering wife (Tiphaine Ramenason). She gets her revenge by convincing two passing buffoons (Will Spence and Iarla Manny), who are seeking to cure their mistress of her mystery dumbness, that her doltish husband is the doctor they’re in need of. Things unfold in a classically comic manner (there are bumptious fights, close calls, skin-of-the-teeth escapes and light-hearted lechery) before everything comes to close, and the young lady is cured by the surprising power of love.
Much of the humour of watching an old comedy is derived from a certain quaintness. We giggle at how they had the same old jokes about married life then as we do now. We laugh at how we still laugh at the same things – and there is something charming about it. No doubt, much of the pleasure of this play (for me at least) came from this, but that is not to say that play isn’t funny in and of itself. Of course it is, and even when in minor mode, as he is here, one senses Molière’s breathless felicity at weaving wit and physical comedy to produce serenely polished farce. It’s a classic comic register – gentle, silly, but still magnanimous.
As I said, some of the lacklustre acting lets the native comedy down. Lines are occasionally thrown away or, much worse, overdone. The cast also try to foster humour via audience interaction, something that I thought regrettable, though I realise is largely a matter of taste. That is not to say that some of the acting isn’t superb. Tim O’Leary as Sganarelle is exceptional; he animates the play, combining physical and verbal comedy excellently. Commendable too are Will Spence’s and Iarla Manny’s performances as the nit-witted duo Valére and Lucas. The strength of Molière’s comedy is in no doubt. If the play doesn’t quite reach its full potential that is only because that some of the actors are too gentle, too throwaway with their performances. However, you’ll still come away feeling you’ve gotten what you paid for, which, as I say, is a fairly rare feeling.
