Vanity Fair by Kate Hamill
There are many tensions in Kate Hamill’s adaptation of William Makepeace Thackeray’s novel of amorality and ambition in 19th-century English society, some of them fruitful, some of them less so.
Fruitful: the “we are not so different, you and I” drama between lowborn Becky Sharp and highborn Amelia Sedley, emphasized by the way they frequently manage to utter the same line at the same time but in different situations and from different parts of the stage. Less so: the hard lean toward comedy on the part of the largely capable cast (in scenes that might be played as serious or even sad) vs. the Manager’s sardonic harangues, which are aimed squarely the audience. She’s full of talk about the false glory of war, the immutable cycle of history, and the illusion of morality — “nobody’s good or bad really, we’re all just trying to get along” — to the point where we might justly wonder why we’re supposed to care about the goings-on onstage. (She’s ready for that, accusing us throughout of being bored and eager to leave and/or falling asleep, but going meta doesn’t help add meaning.)
Fruitful: highlighting the fact that while morals may change, the clash of character and circumstance will always produce drama, both in the soul and society. (A repeated refrain: “All the choices you made, would you make them again?”) Less so: highlighting the passage of time with bits of modern pop and strange protests against being judged.
Moving on to the production: Scripps makes do in fine fashion with its seven actors, all but two of whom play multiple roles, and Alyssa Anne Austin has the charisma to make Becky’s rise believable. Special note should be made of Marcene Drysdale’s costumes, which do good work delineating the character changes, and look great to boot.
When
Ongoing until Sunday, June 16, 2024
Hours
| Sundays, 2pm |
| Fridays, 7:30pm |
| Saturdays, 7:30pm |