DANGEROUS LIAISONS (LES LIAISONS
DANGERUESES)
Directed by Lucy Smith Conroy; written by Christopher Hampton; based on the
novel by Choderlos de Laclos
With: Caroline Hewitt, Janis Stevens, Saskia de Vries, Sarah McFarlane,
David Anthony Lewis, Kerry Watterson, Adele Zofia Bruni, Muriel Kenderdine,
Jeri Pitcher, Paul L. Coffey
In repertory at The Theater at
Monmouth in Monmouth, Maine
From July 5 to August 23, 2003
Reviewed by Laurie Meunier Graves
Vanity and happiness are incompatible.
—La Marquise de Merteuil, from Dangerous Liaisons
All bad habits are hard to break, and it seems that sexual manipulation is
no exception. What starts out as excitement and games in the flush of youth
will harden, if carried to adulthood, into behavior that is compulsive and
destructive. To some extent, most people indulge in this sort of thing when
they are teenagers—the flirtations, the betrayals, the jealousy, the drama,
the promiscuity—but fortunately as they age, they turn their attention to
other matters.
However, there are always some people who, for various reasons, are not able
to move on with their lives. They are stuck in a sort of perpetual
adolescence where the major concerns are with their looks, with the opposite
sex, and with amusing themselves. Obsessed with what others think of them,
they spend much of their time maintaining an image and manipulating those
around them. No class of people, of course, is immune from this, but this is
especially true for the upper-class. Blessed with leisure and wealth, they
are able to pursue their whims and pleasures with a single-mindedness more
common in children.
The Theater at Monmouth’s production of Dangerous Liaisons explores
this theme in pre-revolutionary France, when the ancien régime was in full
swing, and the upper classes had way too much time on their hands. While
they fiddle, France burns, and little do they know what’s in store for them
in a few years—Bastille Day. However, that is still in the future. In the
meantime, the characters in Liaisons set out to make each other and
themselves as miserable as possible.
The chilling Marquise de Merteuil has built her life around sexual conquest.
Even though it brings her no happiness, she views it as her only means of
power. As a woman, she feels that her options are limited, and because of
this, she has become angry, bitter, and conniving. The Marquise throws her
considerable energies and intelligence into plotting the downfall of others,
especially those who have wronged her. Her current victim is Cécile Volanges,
a young girl fresh out of the convent. Cécile is betrothed to a man who has
betrayed the Marquise, and the Marquise wants the girl deflowered before her
marriage to this man.
The Marquise’s partner in crime is Le Vicomte de Valmont, who has a zeal for
seduction seldom found in real life. He has his eye on the prim, virtuous
Madame de Tourvel, who while wealthy, does not indulge in such games.
However, it’s not long before the Marquise convinces Valmont to go for a
double seduction—Cécile and Madame de Tourval—and if he succeeds with Madame
de Tourvel, the Marquise herself will be his prize for one night.
Valmont is just the man for such a job. Suave and persistent, cunning and
aggressive, he nevertheless remains charming as he lays his traps. Poor
Cécile, who is not very clever, is no match for this man who rapes her and
somehow manages to convince her that she had a good time and should continue
on with him.
Madame de Tourvel is quite another matter. She is not so easily seduced, and
Valmont relentlessly batters her defenses, exploiting her piety and her
tender heart. In the process, she falls in love with him, and wonder of
wonders, he falls in love with her.
This, of course, was not part of the plan, and the Marquise is outraged.
Although she has temporarily lost control, the cunning Marquise knows what
Valmont’s weakness is. She exploits this to devastating effect, and what
begins as a nasty comedy turns into a tragedy complete with letters gone
astray, broken hearts, and dead bodies.
The leads—Janis Stevens as the Marquise, David Anthony Lewis as Valmont, and
Adele Zofia Bruni as Madame de Tourvel—are everything they should be. Ms.
Stevens’s Marquise is suitably predatory, decadent, and vicious with a
horrible penchant for destruction. However, Ms. Stevens also shows us that
the Marquise is a proud, intelligent woman who feels cornered by her role as
woman, and as such, we even manage to have a little sympathy for her. Mr.
Lewis portrays Valmont as a man, who while nasty and conniving in his own
right, somehow seems to have a better time than the Marquise. Mr. Lewis’s
Valmont is a vain hedonist whose main goal in life is sexual conquest and
the pleasure it brings him. This sets him apart from the Marquise whose life
seems dry and joyless. Valmont possesses a gusto that the Marquise lacks,
and Mr. Lewis does a fine job of showing this. Ms. Bruni has the thankless
job of playing the virtuous heroine, but she plays it with such dignity that
she never seems like a fool.
By the end of this fine production, it is only too easy to understand why
the French populace turned on this self-absorbed and strangely childish
group of adults. While men, women, and children were working long days just
to stay alive (and there’s a reference to this in the play), the upper-class
was running amok with nary a thought for what it might be like for the rest
of the population. Like Julius Caesar, Dangerous Liaisons
reminds us how some things remain constant throughout the centuries. Perhaps
those in charge today should take note.
