“The Liar,” a play put on by the Department of Theater Studies, is in the middle of its two-weekend run from Apr. 3 to Apr. 6 and from Apr. 10 to Apr. 12 in the Ruby’s Von Der Heyden Studio Theater.
Thisperformance is a lightly-edited adaptation of David Ives’ “The Liar,” created for the Shakespeare Theatre Company in 2010. Ives’ production was itself a reinterpretation of Pierre Corneille’s 1644 play “Le Menteur” that translated and updated the play for a modern day audience.
All three versions of the story follow Dorante (Blaze Gambla, Trinity ‘25), a pathological liar trying to attain Clarice’s (Ondine Peck-Voll, Trinity ‘25) hand in marriage. Unfortunately, a misattribution of her name as not Clarice but Lucrece (Sydney Maynor, Trinity ‘25) — Clarice’s best friend — starts a series of unfortunate misunderstandings that build and eventually unravel Dorante’s elaborate web of lies. Alongside Dorante on his downward spiral of lies is his truth-sayer right-hand man, Cliton (Gus Gress, Trinity ‘25).
In addition to the main quartet, the show stars Bri’Yon Watts (Trinity ‘25) as Alcippe, another of Clarice’s suitors, Maddie Dean (Trinity ‘26) in a duel-role as Isabelle and Sabine, identical twin servants of Clarice and Lucrece, Larrabee Ellenberg (Trinity ‘28) as Geronte, Dorante’s father and Marvin Tai (Trinity ‘27) as Philiste, Alcippe’s valet.
The play is spoken in pentameter — allowing it to be playfully lyrical and, at times, subversive. The rigidity of pentamer made the play’s foundational lies indelible and impressive; the expansion of the play’s fantasy feels all the more abrasive against the tightening walls of ten syllables.
In a break from its structured form, the play’s resolution abandons its previous pentameter — as well as the negative characterization of Dorante — to create a heartfelt moment of reconciliation and realization.
In a play that was universally well-performed and intentionally acted, Watts’ Alcippe stands out as the first act’s bombastic rube. As the other performances sway with the pentameter, being led by and preemptively leading the verse, Watts’ performance feels entirely engulfed in the world of the play. While it would be easy to imagine Dean’s Sabine or Peck-Voll’s Clarice spilling out into a period drama full of soliloquy and pomp, Watt’s Alcippe is the heart of “The Liar” embodied: he couldn’t exist in a France of less fantasy or speak in dull prose.
Both the most swayable character and the most camp-forward performance, Watts is an anti-glue that binds the competing plots, and lies, together with an othering level of farce. With a constantly grimacing, contorted face, Alcippe contrasts the wide eyes and reveal-expounding wonderment of the rest of the cast of “The Liars.”
Building off Watts’ buttressing performance, the leading four — Gambla’s Dorante, Peck-Voll’s Clarice, Maynor’s Lucrece and Gress’ Dorante — enliven their characters with true light and joy. Given the play’s plot, there is little — if anything — redeemable in the moral foundations of any of these four. Half are desirous cheaters, one lacks in self confidence and one’s truthfulness leans into rudeness. Even still, the beats of each performance endear the audience to each characters’ faulty aspirations.
Gambla’s genuine personability makes each of his character’s lies believable. Peck-Voll’s sincerity and nuance make having multiple love interests both understandable and forgivable. Gress’ knowing charm and winking characterization remove the weightiness from his character’s incessant truthfulness. Maynor’s fervor and physicality shed light beyond her character’s surface level meekness.
Beyond the performances, “The Liar” boasts wonderful, creative production design. Shrubs become royal chairs. Bushes fold into benches. Characters transform behind curtains and walls. The sound of the knock on a door or an increasingly-distant slaps are wonderfully diegetic. While simple, the stage, lighting and sound cohere to let the performances — literally and figuratively — take center stage.
“The Liar,” as you might have guessed, questions truthfulness while keeping its tongue firmly in its cheek. Is acting a form of lying? What do the liars of the world tell us about ourselves? Can we be lying to others yet honest to ourselves?
In the hands of the Duke Department of Theater Studies, lies can share truth, farce can show genuine heart and expectation can be subverted. There is still an opportunity to enjoy the second half of the two-week run of “The Liars.” Catch it while you can; it’s smart, sharp and genuinely funny.
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Kadin Purath is a Trinity junior and a culture editor for Recess.