APT's "Ring Round the Moon" is an Opulent Comedy and Serious Morality Play

Director Laura Gordon describes Ring Round the Moon (adapted by Christopher Fry from Jean Anouilh’s An Invitation to the Castle) as “a sneaky play” made up of many other genres, including comedy, romance, farce, and social critique. And indeed, it plays like a patchwork of dramatic impulses, as if the rarified setting – a tropical greenhouse on an opulent French estate on the night of a lavish ball – had rubbed off on the author and left him so giddy, he was unable to stick to one tone or theme. The resulting mad-cap evening includes disguises, mistaken identity, reunions of long lost friends, secret plans, amorous assignations, and characters hiding behind furniture and running for the exits. American Players Theatre’s entertaining production of the play, at the Hill Theatre through September 20th, handles each of these elements with ease. But skill can’t completely overcome the script’s choppy third act, which makes the three-hour play feel longer.

A pair of handsome, old money twins is at the center of this story, which predictably revolves around beautiful people and privilege. Nate Burger is simply astonishing as both Frederic and Hugo – the love besotted, tender-hearted brother, and his calculating, Machiavellian twin. Burger endows each half of the pair with subtle but distinct vocal and physical differences, so that if we are paying attention, the audience clearly understands who is speaking. But of course mix-ups ensue, with both comic and heartbreaking results. Under Gordon’s clever direction (and with the help of body double Nick Farasey) the moments when we see both twins on stage at the same time are cunningly executed.

Inconveniently, both twins are in love with Diana Messerman (a stunning Laura Rook), the spoiled brat daughter of a wealthy industrialist, Messerman (Triney Sandoval). In this family excessive money doesn’t solve problems, it compounds them. While Diana depends on her family’s money to get anything she wants, her father finds joy in nothing, insisting on a diet of unseasoned noodles, even though he could afford every decadent treat, from champagne to caviar.

Rook looks like a fashion model from another time in costume designer Fabio Toblini’s elegant gowns. And she leans in pleasantly to being unpleasant – toying with Frederic’s tender affections and sharpening her claws in a cat fight with the ball’s mysterious and enchanting guest of honor Isabelle (Phoebe González). When she ends up with the scheming, manipulating twin at the end of the story, there’s an overwhelming sense that they deserve each other. (And that’s even more fun for audience members who know that Rook and Burger are married in their lives offstage.)

González plays the stunning, delicate Cinderella character, brought to the ball to distract Frederic from his temper-tantrum of a fiance, and trick all the guests. As such, she spends much of the first half in a stupor – a gorgeous deer in the headlights. Her Isabelle is overwhelmed by her luck – summoned to a sumptuous party by a dashing young man and given the gown of her dreams to wear for one magical night. As the evening goes on, however, her “princely love at first sight” turns into more of a toad with every interaction. Realizing that money doesn’t guarantee good manners, let alone decency, she regains her moral compass and defies both Hugo and Messerman, arguing that not all human beings can be bought. It’s a lovely transformation, from one who has always longed to see inside a palace, to one who sees through everyone.

She and the grande dame of the estate, Madame Desmortes (Barbara Kingsley) are the only characters who see clearly through all the disguises and schemes set in motion by the ball attendees. Thankfully, these truth-tellers both triumph in the end. As the wheelchair-bound matriarch, Kingsley is a masterful blend of wisdom, mischief, comedy, and keen appraisal. She is pitch perfect in the role, but as a long-time APT audience member, I longed to see Sarah Day in the part, whose absence from the company this season is keenly felt.

As Isabelle’s grasping mother, Colleen Madden is an overly dramatic piano teacher with dreams wildly above her station. She quickly squares off against David Daniel’s trim butler, who has relatively few lines, but plays a vital role as gatekeeper for his employer’s estate. His job is to literally prevent the classes from mixing and protect the palace against such hangers-on. While she is wily enough to live out her fantasy of mixing with the rich and famous for one night, unlike her daughter, she can’t conceal her working class roots. She ultimately proves that the rich are not the only ones capable of behaving badly.

One of the delightful features of APT’s seasons is the parallels that the artistic team draws between classic stories and modern day. Here, the ultra-rich play their silly little games, use others thoughtlessly, and buy their way out of trouble. They fetishize a simple life of poverty while occupying a completely separate reality. It is hard not to draw comparisons to the 1% in the U.S. right now, who can evidently buy politicians and supreme court justices, run roughshod over the working class, and build rocket ships with their billions instead of paying taxes. Author Jean Anouilh could not have imagined this country at this exact moment, but he certainly understood the consequences of a widening gap between the haves and the have-nots

Amidst the comic machinations that drive the play forward at a sometimes breakneck pace, during the third act Ring Round the Moon takes a hard left turn to social commentary. In a terrifically well acted scene between Messerman and Isabelle, the characters at the extreme ends of the economic spectrum have a serious conversation about all the things that money can and can’t do. There is also a pointed discussion about the detachment of those who are furthest away from the products they make, but are outrageously compensated. Unfortunately the scene comes near the end of the play and feels completely divorced from the previous 2 1/2 hours. It stops the show’s momentum and feels like an icy wind in the solarium. It’s a relief when the Shakespearean roll call of resolutions is finally announced, so pairs can be celebrated and wins and losses totalled up. But it’s an overly long evening, even if you get to keep the Dior gown.

Post Script

APT's "Ring Round the Moon" is an Opulent Comedy and Serious Morality Play