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To Love, to Be Loved
by Julie Sharbutt
Venus in Furs reviewed September 30, 2005
In a sea of Off-Off Broadway productions, each vying for the same theatergoing audience, it is difficult not to be drawn in, or repelled, by a publicity line. For example, Firebrand Theory's production of Venus in Furs may suffer as much as it benefits from its proudly declared themes. As described, these themes-a "bizarre love story," "super-sensual desires," "darkest fantasies," "alternative cultures," and "the 'M' in S/M"-are going to raise some very particular expectations. Especially coming from Firebrand Theory, a company that has "dedicated itself to stir up public feelings by investigation of controversial issues and dramatizing the infinite mystery of the extraordinary in the ordinary."
Yet the publicity that feeds those expectations is rather deceiving, since this production is unexpectedly, and enjoyably, literary. The play was adapted for the stage by director Michael Scott-Price from Leopold von Sacher-Masoch's 19th-century novel of the same name (the last part of von Sacher-Masoch's name is the source of the word "masochism"). Produced as a parlor piece complete with period clothing, Venus in Furs succeeds as an intriguing look at a struggle with Victorian-era restrictions-less chains and leather collars than Pride and Prejudice. Well, granted, Pride and Prejudice if Elizabeth had subjugated Darcy with a bullwhip.
Not bothering with much subtle exposition, the play tells us that our beleaguered hero Severin, played by Jaime Robert Carillo, is a "wealthy dilettante" who falls in love with Wanda, whom he likens to the goddess Venus. Played by Kim Katzberg, she is beautiful, cold, removed, and lofty. The rest is a slow unveiling of just how far Severin will go and what rights and dignity he will give up to be by the side of the woman he loves, even as she gradually becomes more abusive.
As Severin, Carillo is interesting to watch. Tall and physically imposing with a shock of black hair, he makes himself as impish and groveling as his stature will allow, sometimes to great effect and, occasionally, to an intentional but ill-conceived comic effect.
As Wanda, Katzberg is lovely. Costumed in a white, empire-wasted
dress, and with her unusually large, light-blue eyes always wide open,
she looks rather like a slightly demonic angel, despite her sometimes
too pervasive casualness (she delivers a few of her darker monologues
arch-backed with the inside of her elbows facing the audience).
Together, Carillo and Katzberg have a sweet and natural chemistry, an
uncomfortably charming factor in their characters' complex
relationship.
Director Michael Scott-Price does a fine job making the most of a
limited space and a wordy text. The production's style perhaps pays
homage to Francis Ford Coppola's film Dracula, another adaptation of a
late-Victorian novel (written by Bram Stoker some 30 years after Venus
in Furs) that explores repressed sexuality. In this production, as in
Coppola's film, the director handles lengthy journal entries as
internal monologues, with recorded passages playing over some of the
action.
This helps resolve some of the problems with the play's stilted
action and keeps things moving so that the production runs a tight 90
minutes. Scott-Price also cleverly uses the supporting characters,
played by just two actors (Amy Kersten and Carlton R. Tanis), to
create small stage pictures, as when Wanda's deceased first husband
returns silently to embrace her as she fondly remembers him. Moreover,
Kersten and Tanis provide an outside perspective on the goings-on in
Severin and Wanda's strange relationship.
The play ends at a pinnacle of brutality, both emotional and physical,
and yet it seems unresolved. This may be the fault of the director and
actors in failing to build to a decisive point, or it may be a
reluctance by von Sacher-Masoch to comment on the unusual and, at the
time, completely taboo nature of his subject. Either way, the journey
to that point is engaging.
Had the play been produced at, say, the Classic Stage Company, a
theater known for its revivals of classics, you would know what to
expect from a staging of this piece. But lovers of literature, feel
free to head to the Collective Unconscious theater-you'll be
pleasantly surprised. As for lovers of something a little more
hard-core, this might not be the show for you.
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