Richard Brinsley Sheridan’s The School for Scandal is unquestionably a masterpiece of 18th century artificiality. It is easy enough to cloak its pretensions in pure synthetic theatricality, but it is more rewarding and fun to see this view of Restoration high life when presented as winningly as it is by the Red Bull Theater now at the Lucille Lortel Theater. And what could be more difficult for a contemporary actor in a play such as this than to flit and flirt amidst yards of ruffles and lace while maintaining the validity and integrity of two centuries-removed characters. It’s good to report that it is also the human side of metaphor-strewn Old England that shines through under Marc Vietor’s direction.
As a result, the grace and humor of the play’s characters come through, especially watching the incessantly disapproving Sir Peter Teazle (Mark Linn-Baker) wrangle with his incorrigible child bride (Helen Cespedes). We are given plenty of opportunities to identify with the men those “unconscionable dogs,” and the distaff “daughters of calumny” that Sheridan satirically reproves with such wit and polish. Bravi to this company for making Sheridan’s glitteringly dialogued expose of London’s polite society from being much more than an over dressed convention of relentless boors and tiresome scandalmongers.
Costume designer Andrea Lauer knew she had better utilize all the extravagant and colorful ruffles, laces, satins, silks and multi-colored powdered wigs to measure up to the obligatory scenery-chewing performances that do all but devour the modest but elegant scenery - mostly moving panels - as designed by Anna Louizos. While some members of the company are more skilled than others in the meticulously schooled art of sniffing/snuffing, mincing and raising of the eyebrows, there is a general consensus that the appropriate attitude is sufficient. It’s almost enough to see how the mastery of lines and asides nicely conveys the form and elegance of Sheridan’s world.
Standout among the company is Dana Ivey, who, not surprisingly, is a joy to watch as the gossipy Mrs. Candour and like the others in her social circle, doesn’t slip into caricature but rather reveals the formalized naturalism that must exist in equal measure with the period’s affectations. Aside from Baker, Ivey and Cespedes, others who appear as equally accomplished haute farceurs are Frances Barber as the rich and ribald Lady Sneerwell, Jacob Dresch, as really slinky gossip columnist Mr. Snake, and Ryan Garbayo as his obnoxious protégé cum society poet, Sir Benjamin Backbite.
The always terrific Henry Stram nails the more subtly of decorous mannerisms as Sir Oliver Surface. You may be hard pressed not to laugh aloud every time a gong rings announcing the arrival of Punjabi family friend Master Ranji (Ramsey Faragallah). But stifling laughs is almost a must if you want to hear all the lines. Sheridan’s play exposes disguises, deceptions, and dishonesties without obscenities. That’s quite a feat and with this lovely production we see how his spirit is kept alive.
