 |
| Nero (Jean-Christophe Laurier) starts off shirtless and tousled, but later takes to power dressing. Photo: Photo Lot |
|
|
| Nero (Jean-Christophe Laurier) starts off shirtless and tousled, but later takes to power dressing. Photo: Photo Lot |
Jean Racine’s Britannicus wasn’t my favorite A-level French literature text – although, to be fair, it had the rather impossible task of replicating the seismic effects Samuel Beckett’s En Attendant Godot and Jean-Paul Sartre’s Les Mains Sales had had on me – but it is a classical tragedy of intense poetic beauty, and I was delighted to see a respectable performance of it last weekend at Le Théâtre 14.
Published in 1669, Racine’s first Roman play tells the story of the transformation of the young emperor Néron (a “monster naissant”) into the cold-blooded murderer we read of in history books, though in Racine’s play we see a more sensitive side to his character: the catalyst for his change of personality is unrequited love rather than a thirst for unbridled power. In Britannicus, Néron is an emotional young creature, psychologically distraught after falling in love with his half-brother Britannicus’s beloved, Junie. The triangle ultimately serves to toughen Néron’s resolve and leads to the play’s tragic end.
The action takes place against a backdrop of political intrigue: Thanks to the machinations of his mother, Agrippine, Néron has been able to usurp Britannicus, the son of Claudius and his first wife, and take the imperial throne. The domineering Agrippine, Claudius’s second wife, is determined to maintain her grip on power and her control of Néron, for whom she has incestuous feelings, but she ultimately engineers her own fall from favor by supporting the match of Britannicus and Junie in a bid to save her position, making herself an obstacle to Néron’s ambitions.
The play’s tension is guaranteed by the tenets of the French classical tradition, which dictate that all action has to occur in one place within a single day and revolve around one theme; in this case: power corrupts. This elegantly staged production did justice to both tradition and the text, with only a couple of weak points.
The action starts in the stalls with a discussion between Agrippine and her confidante, Albine, drawing the audience straight into the heat of the action. The text requires great attention, since any action in a Racine play takes place on a psychological level, through the revelation of the main characters’ innermost thoughts to their confidants. Physical action is reported in speech.
Néron’s imperial bedchamber takes up the stage, with two shirtless sidekicks adorning the bedposts. Large rectangular panels of gilded wire fencing on either side convey a feeling of imperial grandeur. The panels glide into various positions to suit the movement on the stage, and some are fitted with clear plastic that serves as both mirror and window, allowing Néron to spy on the action in the corridors outside.
The modern-day costumes play an important role. The three members of the love triangle are in white, the rest of the characters in black. Néron starts off shirtless and barefoot, with tousled hair, but once he has resolved to make his stand, he emerges suited, booted and slick.
Jean-Christophe Laurier is gripping and entertaining as the impetuous, spoiled yet very stylish young emperor, displaying a winning mastery of movement, expression and rhyming alexandrine couplets. Director Jean-Louis Martin-Barbaz emphasizes the youth of Néron and Britannicus, both teenagers at the time of these events, notably through their amusingly petulant pillow fight over Junie.
As Agrippine, Yveline Hamon plays a suitably boisterous old boiler, power-dressed to befit her formidable status. She delivers her lines well, though sometimes gets carried away with anger and spits them out a little too fast for the audience to really savor them.
As the innocent victim Britannicus, Antoine Rosenfeld is dashing and capable, but he is upstaged in the end by Laurier, while Vanessa Krycève as Junie did a good job of dealing with Néron’s sadistic games but wailed too much for my taste. Rachel André as Albine was hammy. Of the political advisors, Patrick Simon as Burrhus had the edge, crying at the sorry state of affairs at the end.
I used to wonder why this play was called Britannicus, since it is so much more about Néron and Agrippine, but this production makes it clear that Britannicus’s threatening presence drives the action.
Recommended for all French A-level students and Racine fans, who are sure to appreciate Laurier’s Néron.
Nick Woods
Le Théâtre 14 Jean-Marie Serreau: 20 av. Marc Sangnier, 75014 Paris. Métro: Porte de Vanves. Tel.: 01 45 45 49 77. Tickets: up to €23. Through May 2. http://theatre14.fr/
Reader Reaction
Click here to respond to this article (your response may be published on this page and is subject to editing).
© 2009 Paris Update
Favorite