After having the rug pulled out from under the feet by the health authorities in March 2020 – and this, after a single heartbreaking performance –, the play Miss Julie finally takes off on the boards of the Rideau Vert. However, this production adapted and directed by Serge Denoncourt proves to be half successful.
Posted at 9:30 a.m.
In fact, this great classic signed by the Swede August Strindberg seems to have been split in two by who knows what spell. The first part is superbly mastered, full of delicacy and meaningful silences. There, one Saint-Jean evening, we meet Mademoiselle Julie, a young aristocrat played by Magalie Lépine-Blondeau. This young woman, rejected by her fiancé 15 days earlier, chose to spend this festive evening with the servants rather than with those of her rank. She wants to stun herself, dull her grief, forget the social shackles that suffocate her.
However, the border which separates the social classes is very often undermined. Mademoiselle Julie suspects it, but no matter. Her brain intoxicated by beer, she will embark on a dangerous game of seduction with Jean (David Boutin), a charismatic and ambitious servant. A cruel dance, where desire and contempt alternate, will take place under the very eyes of the fiancée of the latter, the loyal Kristin interpreted with accuracy by Kim Despatis.
We feel the trouble settling between the two protagonists. Furtive glances become more and more supported. We guess that the night will be hot… and tragic.
Only, once the irreparable is committed and the wine has stopped flowing, the interpretation seems to get carried away.
When the young woman’s mind begins to crack, when anger growls too loudly or when despair invades her, Magalie Lépine-Blondeau’s interpretation explodes to the point of causing annoyance (or worse, laughter) rather than empathy. All these cries, these tears, these sonorous laughter… These floodgates that are too open eclipse Mademoiselle Julie’s distress, Jean’s spinelessness (who watches his mistress sink without flinching), the life imprisonment of the characters in the little hut where life placed them. Strindberg’s text brilliantly dissects the class struggle and the battle between the sexes. We almost end up forgetting it here.
In short, the emotion of the public would have been better served by a little more nuance, more contained rage, even more interiority.
PHOTO FRANÇOIS DELAGRAVE, PROVIDED BY LE RIDEAU VERT
The scenography of Miss Julie sends back a sweet image, well opposed to the drama that will play out on the boards.
A word in closing on the magnificent scenography, which serves as a setting for the characters. The sets by Guillaume Lord and the lighting design by Julie Basse are worth a look. When the curtain rises, we discover a kitchen immersed in light, a true oasis of tranquility where nothing can happen. Yet it is between these white walls that a bomb will explode and the dike that holds the emotions in place will blow. For better and for worse.
Miss Julie
Adapted and directed by Serge Denoncourt
With Magalie Lépine-Blondeau, David Boutin and Kim Despatis
At the Théâtre du Rideau Vert, until April 16