Venus in Fur
by David Ives
Black Box Theater
Cotuit Center for the Arts

The black box theater at the Cotuit Center for the Arts is the most intimate space I’ve been in since I saw One in the Chamber. It was set up to seat about 35 people in an L shape around the stage, with the vertex of the L interrupted by Thomas’s desk and chair. The actors were never more than 4 or 5 feet away, so the audience was really drawn into the characters’ interaction.

Unfortunately, I was disappointed with the production. The actors were fine, and they delivered their lines skillfully. But so much in this play depends on accent. Vanda is supposed to have a broad Bronx accent, something that will contrast sharply with the RP accent she assumes when reading the play. The last time I saw this play, the actress didn’t have the accents down solid, and there was light between the accents, as it were. Lexi Langs didn’t even try for Bronx: she went for a watered down Valley girl. (Langs is Equity, so I was hoping for better.) So the ricochet shifts from Vanda–the–actress and Vanda–the–character didn’t have that crystal clarity. (And her German wasn’t the best, either.) The same was true of Santino Torretti; his shifts between bland American and “continental” weren’t particularly sharp. These accents are crucial to the mercurial balance between the two characters. When Vanda shifts accents the first time when she starts reading the play, Thomas is supposed to be shocked: this is the first indication that there is more to Vanda than meets the eye. The shift wasn’t shocking, and Torretti didn’t have much of a reaction.

I think this lack of clarity in accents contributed to the role reversal at the end of the play being less effective; certainly the final apotheosis wasn’t as harrowing as it should be.

The set was about as minimal as it could be. The window through which we see the lightning was fake, which was okay, except that Vanda is supposed to throw Thomas’s phone out the window as she begins to take control. Throwing the phone out the window is an irrevocable break between Thomas and Stacy, and Thomas finally realizes he has lost control. It’s not as effective (or as irrevocable) if Vanda merely tosses the phone aside on the sofa.

I’m sure the rest of the audience enjoyed the performance (it was opening night, and the house was full). And it was enjoyable, as far as it went. But the rest of the audience won’t know what they missed.