Theatre de la Jeune Lune's "Figaro"

Last Sunday, we saw "Figaro" the companion piece to the opera-play-circus "Don Juan Giovanni". But Figaro was a more cohesive production and had a trimmer narrative. We understood who the people were, and mostly what they were doing. Almost all the wonderful things we felt about Don Juan were here as well, the great singing, the great stagecraft, and the surprising acting performances (especially Momoko Tanno as Susanna, who doesn't get the mention and praise she deserves, at least not from Louise Kennedy at the Globe in her review of Figaro).

Why does Figaro -- Fig, to the count -- stay with the Count and continue serving him? The French Revolution is upending everything. Riots in the streets. The guillotines working. And yet, Fig stays with that tiresome, demanding, demented old fool. It can't be for the money -- the Count doesn't appear to have any left. His estate is about to be taken over by the mobs. Fig complains and rails at the count, sure, but there he is, preparing the Count's dinner, taking a beating outside the front gates of their house in order to get food for him, rushing -- yes, rushing -- to get a chair for the old man as he motions to sit down, waiting for trusty Fig to place the chair under him.

This is the man who attempted to humiliate Fig on his wedding day, attempted to invoke his sexual seignorial rights with Fig's bride, Susanna, and this is the man who boasts of it and taunts Fig even now.

And there is Fig, still getting that chair. I feel overwhelmed. It's so true. Of course Fig gets the chair for the Count. I don't know why, but I know it has to happen.

Once again, as in DJG, a ridiculous bit of simulated sex, utterly untrue to the spirit of the scene, the characters, or the play.

I would say that DJG evoked our emotions on a bigger, more chaotic scale than did Figaro.

There was that scene from Don Juan Giovanni -- the beautiful soprano bicycling around the stage, singing. Her foolish boyfriend tries to catch her, make her stop. She pedals faster and faster, singing and taunting the clueless fellow. Finally, the poor guy can't stand it any more and he collapses on his face while she pedals offstage -- cheerfully singing. We laughed and laughed.