Playwright: Pierre Carlet de Marivaux, translated by Stephen Wadsworth. At: Remy Bumppo Theatre Company at the Greenhouse, 2257 N. Lincoln Ave. Phone: 773-404-7336;$35-$50. Runs through: Jan. 8
A playbill note gives our locale as the North Shore of Chicago during the 1960s. Ignore it, if you want to avoid confusion, because Pierre Carlet de Marivaux's romantic comedy is premised firmly in 18th-century European sovereign privilege. Consider a young prince, traveling incognito, who falls for a village maiden betrothed to a local lad. What does the lovesick royal do? Why, kidnaps the girl with the intent of holding her captive in his palace until she can be persuaded to accept his proposal of marriage (a shotgun wedding being distasteful even to monarchs). That is not how we do things in America!
Despite a few Mad Men-era frocks and pre-Beatles pop tunes, Timothy Douglas' directorial concept suffers further ambiguity in Stephen Wadsworth's translation, which juxtaposes Yankee idioms like "We're in a pickle" and Valley-speak "Aaaw, whatever" with the formal syntax we expect of classical oratory. What catapults us inextricably into Goldoni territory, however, is the entrance of Harlequin, that icon of 12th-century Roman commedia, dressed in his traditional motley and mask, while sporting a heavy Latino accent. After that, it's impossible to pretend we are anywhere but a fairy-tale kingdom of giddy lovers and improbable solutions.
This is not a bad thing. Once disencumbered of scholarly analogies, the characters are a delight to watch as they scheme to deliver unto their spoiled monarch what he desires, after seducing Silvia's country-boy suitor away with money and a high-born mistress. Once the actors acclimate to the lofty rhetoric, they are also a delight to hear, delving the ethical consequences of their decisions as charted in Marivaux' age-of-reason philosophical discussions. Nicolas Gamboa's effusive Harlequin charms us from his first appearance, as do D'Wayne Taylor's haughty butler and Jake Szczepaniak's lip-syncing houseboy. Steve Wojtas valiantly projects innocence in the problematic role of the Prince, while Alana Arenas and Linda Gillum project womanly wit and wisdom with unflagging stamina over the two and a half hours of the production.
The fashion nowadays is to reach for timely lessons in the social behavior of long ago. There's no harm in Douglas' attempt to hijack Marivaux in pursuit of commentary on class prejudices and the corrupting influence of materialism, nor in audiences joining him in his search. Be advised, however: Those who don't peer so closely will have much more fun.