vanloan@nyconstage.org

Slowly, unobtrusively actor Kevin Kline has amassed a classical body of work on both stage (primarily through Joseph Papp's Public Theater) and film that is unprecedented by any other American actor. Basically working his way through the Shakespearean canon from tragedy (Hamlet, Richard III, and King Lear) to comedy (Much Ado About Nothing, As You Like It) and history (Henry V), he has also played major roles in Brecht and Chekhov as well. It is only fitting he should include Edmond Rostand's romantic classic Cyrano de Bergerac to his resume. While giving another exquisitely wrought performance, he is the only thing illustrious in this visually striking, emotionally inert production directed by David Leveaux.

British director Leveaux has made his reputation on his detached (at times dry) approach to theatrical classics. He set his production of Williams' The Glass Menagerie behind a scrim. His Fiddler on the Roof was bled dry of its usual heightened emotionalism and placed in a stylized shetel. Hated by purists, I found both productions interesting. That is not the case here, however. This Cyrano feels like a 16th. century Dutch Masters painting come to life; the passion that it contains is too muted and restrained. We often have difficulty finding our focus in the dim, chiaroscuro lighting via Don Holder; indeed sometimes it's difficult to see who's talking. The extremely talented costumer designer Gregory Gale also follows a muted palette of grays and browns in his sumptuously designed dresses. Tom Pye's set captures the period flavor of tavern life only to give us a cutout version of the castle's balcony for the famous wooing scene. The entire production design induces a narcotic rather than hypnotic effect.

As we follow the story of Cyrano who's unsightly, ugly nose makes him unworthy of Roxane's (Jennifer Garner) love and whose rigorous honesty makes him unwanted of court allegiances; we see where Leveaux intentionally downplays our hero's outsider/ outcast status. While there is certainly no need to portray Cyrano as if he were in an Errol Flynn swashbuckling epic, a Cyrano lacking in passion makes for no Cyrano at all. To be fair, some of this restraint is due to Anthony Burgess' rather parched translation and adaptation.

Even the principle actors lack the heightened qualities sufficient for our engagement. Jennifer Garner's Roxane while looking luxurious even in Gale's dull costumes lacks sufficient stage presence too effectively hold our sympathies. Her stage technique calls to mind Spencer Tracy's famous dictum on acting: "Remember your lines and don't bump into any furniture". She does show occasional sparks of comic timing which might work for her in another vehicle. Roxane's true love, Christian is played by Daniel Sunjata. Strikingly handsome, he has more stage experience than Ms. Garner yet seems as remote from his character as she is to hers. He plays the valiant soldier as so thickheaded that he comes off doltish. Only Chris Sarandon as Cyrano's nemesis Comte de Guiche possesses the desired flash of theatricality that is so lacking overall.

The gifted Mr. Kline eventually falls under the spell of dullness as well; at times his brooding melancholy is more suited to Hamlet than Cyrano. He backs away from the few arias that the Burgess translation provides although this ambiguity is perfectly suited for his reflections at the end of his life.

Panache is something that Cyrano finds lacking in life and his constant railing for it is a leitmotif throughout the play. It is tragic he should find himself in a production which has none whatsoever.

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