Sandra Oh, beloved for her roles in Grey’s Anatomy and Killing Eve, has finally made her London stage debut in a gender-flipped adaptation of Molière’s The Misanthrope at the National Theatre. The production, directed by Indhu Rubasingham and adapted by Martin Crimp, transports the 17th-century comedy into the modern day, swapping aristocratic protagonists for a celebrity novelist and her circle. Despite Oh’s magnetic presence, the play too often settles for safe satire rather than the sharp incisiveness the original demands.
Background: Molière’s Classic and Crimp’s Adaptation
Molière’s Le Misanthrope, first performed in 1666, remains one of the most enduring critiques of social hypocrisy. Its original protagonist, Alceste, is a nobleman who loathes the flattery and deceit of court life, yet finds himself hopelessly in love with the flirtatious Célimène. The play’s brilliance lies in its ambiguous portrayal of misanthropy—Alceste is both righteous and ridiculous. Martin Crimp, a playwright known for his acerbic, contemporary dialogues, has adapted the work twice. His first version, staged at the Young Vic in 1996 with Uma Thurman, was critically acclaimed. A revival in 2009 featured Damian Lewis and Keira Knightley. This new adaptation, however, makes more radical changes: the hero is now a woman, Alice, a best-selling author whose refusal to “swivel” (play the social game) jeopardizes her career and recent literary prize. The setting shifts from the court of Louis XIV to a world of publicists, cancel culture, and intimacy coordinators, all while retaining some baroque flair in Robert Jones’s lavish set design.
The Plot and Key Characters
Alice (Sandra Oh) is the misanthrope of the title, declaring early on, “I hate everyone. I used to think it was just men.” She rails against the hypocrisy of modern society, from the pleasantries of parties to the shallow demands of social media. Her friend John (a wonderful Paul Chahidi) serves as a foil—a playwright who accuses her of being too harsh, yet secretly admires her honesty. The only chink in Alice’s armor is her relationship with Stefan (Tom Mison), a movie star boyfriend who seems to embody everything she detests: fickle, fawning, and obsessed with his image. The love affair is not convincingly drawn; while opposites may attract, the text never fully explains why Alice would tolerate his vanity. Other supporting characters include Stefan’s irritating publicist, played with comic verve by Rina Fatania, whose breathless monologue on image rehabilitation in the age of algorithms garners hearty laughs. “Being an alcoholic can actually be an asset if you know how to spin it!” she exclaims, a moment that hints at the sharper satire the play could have delivered consistently.
Sandra Oh’s Performance
Oh’s transition from screen to stage is a major draw for fans, and she does not disappoint in the role’s demanding outbursts of protest, proclamation, and ranting. Yet her finest moments come in the quieter interludes, when Alice’s “fangs are retracted” and her vulnerability surfaces. An agonizing scene over Stefan’s infidelity, or a genuinely tender exchange with John, reveals the emotional depth Oh can bring. Unfortunately, these moments are too few and far between. The adaptation gives her fewer opportunities for subtlety than the character deserves, and the play’s pacing often rushes past emotional beats. Still, Oh commands the stage with the same precision and intensity she brought to Cristina Yang or Eve Polastri, proving she can hold her own in live theater. Her London stage debut may not be the perfect vehicle, but it showcases her range.
Thematic Strengths and Weaknesses
Crimp’s update opens a cornucopia of modern targets: female empowerment, patriarchy, internet trolls, and celebrity culture. Yet the satire feels like a “fine spritz” rather than the firehose jet of Molière’s original. The play is filled with platitudes and generalized debates, never digging deep enough to challenge the audience. For instance, Alice’s hatred of hypocrisy is undermined by her own complicity in a relationship built on public image. The play raises questions about authenticity in the digital age but fails to explore them thoroughly. The supporting cast does well to hold their own—Fatania’s publicist, Chahidi’s John, and Mison’s Stefan all provide strong contrasts to Alice’s intensity. However, the ensemble dynamic sometimes feels uneven, with certain characters underutilized.
Direction and Design
Indhu Rubasingham, the National Theatre’s artistic director, directs with a brisk hand, keeping the comedy moving even when the material drags. Robert Jones’s set design strikes a curious balance between baroque ornamentation and contemporary minimalism—a mix of ornate wallpaper, modern furniture, and video screens that display social media feeds. This visual clash mirrors the play’s central tension: old aristocratic values versus modern self-promotion. The costumes, by any number of designers (uncredited here), range from Alice’s sharp tailored suits to Stefan’s casual celebrity attire, reinforcing the characters’ social roles.
Reception and Context
Critical response has been mixed. Many reviewers note that while Oh is a compelling presence, the production never fully harnesses her talents. Fans of Killing Eve and Grey’s Anatomy will undoubtedly flock to the National for a chance to see her up close, and those moments of devotion will be rewarded. Yet on the whole, one hopes for a more robust theatrical vehicle for the Canadian star as she makes her London stage debut. The play runs until 1 August, offering a limited window for audiences to catch this notable—if imperfect—production. For regular theatergoers, The Misanthrope remains a worthy study of social hypocrisy, but Crimp’s adaptation lacks the bite of Molière’s original. It is a safe revival that plays it too cautious, leaving viewers wanting more—both from the script and from its star.
Source:MSN News