The Guardsman

Reviewed by Deborah Klugman

Hungarian playwright  Ferenc Molnar’s The Guardsman has been viewed in this country mostly as a theatrical confection, an entertaining comedy about a jealous actor who undertakes an elaborate charade to establish his wife’s fidelity, or lack thereof. Alfred Lunt and Lynne Fontanne brought it to the stage in 1924, then reprised their performances in a 1931 film. Molnar’s original script was actually much weightier than the Lunt/Fontanne version, which had been tailored by American producers to American audiences, and thus shorn of its darker depths and edgier components. Molnar hated these revisions; he developed his story, at least in part, from his own personal and painful romantic obsession with a young actress, and his central character, The Actor, was not merely a fatuous soul but truly did suffer from a sense of betrayal. (Despite his unhappiness, Molnar did cash the producers’ check, and at the time kept his carping to himself.)

H. Patrikas Zakshevskis’s adaptation converts the youthful and only recently wedded couple that Molnar wrote about into mature people who have been married for some time. But maturity has not brought wisdom. Despite their years together, Heinrich (Henry Olek) is still bedeviled by thoughts that his attractive spouse Elena (Susan Priver) may be interested in other men. He concocts an imaginary suitor, a royal military figure with a fancy uniform, and sends her flowers on his behalf. Pretending to be away on business, Heinrich then returns, in extravagant disguise, as this same suitor to woo his wife. Each time she rejects him, he’s overjoyed.  Each time she responds, he’s crestfallen.

Meanwhile, an old friend (David Fruechting) hovers about, witness to Heinrich’s self-tormenting folly. A cadre of household help — two footmen (Josh Imlay and Chad Anthony Miller), a maid (Kaitlin Huwe) and a housekeeper (Bonnie Snyder) – are also on hand to observe and inject elements of slapstick to the goings-on. They hide behind doors, tripping and falling.

It would be wonderful to report that the production revived some of the play’s profounder emotional elements —  an aspiration alluded to by director Lillian Groag in her program note — or even that it exploited the material’s plum opportunities for laughter. It might have offered — and perhaps intended to — insight into the pervasive destructiveness of jealous passion carried into the autumn years.

Instead, silliness in excess is what the audience endures, not because the central character is a foolish man who keeps repeating the same mistakes but because – bottom line — the performances under Groag’s direction are so facile and internally lifeless. Notwithstanding a couple of laughter-provoking diversions, such as a sword that Heinrich keeps tripping over and poking people with, the show’s 80-minutes seem endless and empty. Frankly, it’s hard to understand how theater artists with as much cumulative experience could be so lax, and waste so much of the talent of the professional designers who attractively framed their work.

Noho Arts Center, 11136 Magnolia Blvd., N. Hlywd.; Fri.-Sat., 8 p.m.; Sun., 7 p.m.; through June 22. (323) 960-4418 or www.plays411.com/guardsman