The Miser

Francesca Faridany plays Harpagon in Molière’s The Miser, and Daniel Pearce is La Flêche in Lucie Tiberghien’s production.

Summer means free theater in New York, and Molière in the Park, an organization co-founded by Lucie Tiberghien and Garth Belcon. The Miser becomes the third free production at LeFrak Center, following The Misanthrope (2022) and Tartuffe (2023). Directed by Tiberghien, it’s an invigorating new version of the French playwright’s 1668 satire.

Ismenia Mendes plays Élise, and Calvin Leon Smith is Valère inThe Miser at Prospect Park’s LeFrak Center at Lakeside, in Brooklyn.

The current production, translated and adapted by David Chambers, updates the setting to the present and casts female actors in the title role of Harpagon (Francesca Faridany), Cléante (Alana Raquel Bowers), and Maître Jacques (Lisa Gorlitsky), all traditionally played by men. Whether it’s a nod to the LGBTQ community or simply an exploration of gender in the play, it shows that Tiberghien is intent on pushing the theatrical envelope when it comes to Molière’s works.

The reimagined story: A newly widowed sexagenarian named Harpagon (the name means a hook or grappling iron) is consumed by his fear of losing his wealth. His every thought, word, and action revolves around money. When he announces that he has fallen in love again and plans to wed, his two daughters, Élise (Ismenia Mendes) and Cléante (Alana Raquel Bowers), preoccupied with their own romantic entanglements, rebel. After all, Élise hopes to wed Valère (Calvin Leon Smith), and Cléante is planning to run away with Marianne (MaYaa Boateng). Things heat up even more when Harpagon reveals that his new love is Marianne, his daughter’s sweetheart.

While Harpagon hardly is an endearing character, his coach and cook Maître Jacques (Lisa Gorlitsky) does have a soft spot for him. Still, when Harpagon asks Maître Jacques what the world thinks of him, the coach realizes that it’s no time to mince words:

Harpagon: I’d love to know what the world thinks of me. You’ll be doing me a favor.
Maître Jacques: Well, since you insist, I’ll be frank: you are the butt of a thousand jokes, all about how mean you are. … They say that you spend the entire month of December picking fights with footmen, doormen, and other servants so that you won’t have to give them anything for Christmas. In short, sir, you are the laughingstock of this city. And all they use to describe you are words like stingy, tightwad, codger, lickpenny, harpy, extortioner, usurer, venal and covetous.

Mendes (right) with Alana Raquel Bowers as Cléante in The Miser, reimagined for contemporary times. Photographs by Russ Rowland.

The creative team have all hands on deck. Marie Yokoyama’s no-frills set consists of a multi-level platform stage with the audience seated on white wooden folding chairs, wrapped around the performing space. 

Stoli Stolnack’s rainbow-hued lighting washes over the stage, creating a romantic mood and atmosphere as well as effectively illuminating the performers in any given scene. Jessica Irvin’s modern costumes—a mix of couture, casual outfits, suits, and chef’s accoutrements—range from the simple to the extravagant.

These fine technical accomplishments would have been in vain, however, if the ensemble did not bring their own theatrical magic to the stage. 

Faridany pulls off the titular role of the elderly Harpagon with sheer brio. She skillfully balances the character’s avarice with a need for human affection. Another standout is Smith as Valère, wonderfully managing to straddle his two personas as Harpagon’s sycophantic steward and Élise’s secret lover and would-be husband.

Lisa Gorlitsky (left) as Maître Jacques and Faridany as Harpagon in a modern version of Molière’s The Miser.

Alana Raquel Bowers plays Harpagon’s daughter Cléante with panache, as she tries to derail her father’s plan to marry her own heartthrob Marianne. Indeed, it’s intriguing to see her circumvent her father’s manipulative behaviors and not despair over her own lovelorn situation. 

Then there’s Daniel Pearce’s admirable turn, tripling as La Flêche, an officer, and Anselme. In the last role, Pearce’s Anselme doesn’t materialize until Act V.  But his charitable character exerts a powerful force on the play, as he counterpoints the stingy Harpagon and is the key catalyst for the recognition scene in the climax, in which long-lost relatives find one another.

One of the sobering elements of a Molière comedy is that its flawed central character doesn’t undergo a change. In fact, Harpagon remains a miser at play’s end. He takes advantage of Anselme’s offer to pay for his daughter’s weddings, resulting in more money lining his own strongbox:

Harpagon: You’ll pay the officer, then?
Anselme: Let it be so.  Let us go quickly, my children, to share our joy with your mother.
Harpagon: And I to see my dear strongbox.

The Miser, written in prose, doesn’t need the wings of poetry to soar as its comedy springs from its absurd, over-the-top, and poignantly funny situations. Indeed, as inventively staged by Tiberghien, The Miser can still pack a real emotional punch. Molière would approve.

The production of Molière’s The Miser at Prospect Park’s LeFrak Center at Lakeside (171 East Drive,  Brooklyn) through May 19. Evening performances are 7:30 p.m. Tuesday through Saturday and 8 p.m. Sunday; matinees are at 3 p.m. Sunday. For more information, visit moliereinthepark.org.

Playwright: Molière
Director: Lucie Tiberghien
Sets: Marie Yokoyama
Lighting: Stoli Stolnack
Costumes: Jessica Irvin

Music: Paul Brill

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