The Misanthrope

I'm not really one for box sets. or war films. so i was mightily surprised to find myself drawn into the DVD black hole that is the 11 part box set of WWII drama Band of Brothers two Christmases ago, thanks to my sister Kelsey. There my Captain Winters/Damian Lewis obsession was ignited, and the flame of undiminished adoration continues to feverishly burn to this day. As a consequence, DL's presence as the misanthropic titular character, Alceste, in Moliere's play (currently at The Comedy Theatre) very nearly threatened to be too much for me to handle but, as it turned out, the production was so sharp, so funny, so acerbic, so quick steppingly socially, culturally and morally pertinent, with its attack on our phoney, fawning, two-faced celebrity obsessed culture that i was actually barely distracted at all. And, dare i say it, Keira Knightley very much contributed to this overall show of excellence. i know: shocker. Not only did she convincingly pull off an American accent, but she also delivered contemporary rhyming couplets without sounding like prat. Hats off. Rhyming 'lines of coke' with 'Baroque' convincingly is no mean feat. and, from my privileged position in a box (i had unknowingly booked seats for two days earlier than i showed up, so bought two standing tickets hoping the theatre manager could slip me into a box and the last minute, which happened - hurrah) i can say she looked great up close - completely absorbed in her character, the snake-tongued starlet Jennifer whose wittily bitchy diatribes against her friends and colleagues reveal her and her lover's two-peas-in-a-pod perfection.

Lastly, a moment about the fact that the play is in verse - featuring lots of rhyming couplets, half rhymes and internal rhymes. i very nearly went into anaphylactic shock at first - contemporary dialogue, complete with swearing, in RHYME? spare me the pretentiousness, please. but then i rather warmed to it. ok, it's not natural, exactly, but the language itself is, and the self-consciousness of rhyme fits so well with celebrity world created on stage - writers, actors and critics who are aware of every word that's said in art and life, as well as every flick of the hair, arch of the eyebrow. Crimp manages to use rhyme so artfully - never wasting the emphasis which inevitably rides upon each highlighted word. i was speechless by the finale. completely didn't want it to end... to which end Laura and i went for a don't-want-the-night-to-end drink afterwards where we then drank too much. clever.