Sharp script worthy of legendary large-nosed lead at Royal Manitoba Theatre Centre’s Cyrano de Bergerac

Cyrano de Bergerac can pick his nose, but he didn’t get to choose it.

Even if given the option of rhinoplasty, would the dashing, witty and macro-schnozzed 17th-century Frenchman (played with ardent panache by Jack Davidson) go under the knife? How about you?

Regardless of his preference that his work — his rapier wit, his legendary bravery and his mastery of swordplay — should earn him renown, it’s a bulbous bit of extra cartilage that obscures his inherent qualities.

For Cyrano de Bergerac, it’s not only a chip on the shoulder that shapes his self-perception and thus his erratic and entertaining behaviours, the nose is the leading sentence to a timeless underdog story written in playwright Jessy Ardern’s indelible ink.

In this adaptation of Edmond Rostand’s 1897 work, the season-opening production for the Royal Manitoba Theatre Centre, the Winnipeg-born Ardern revitalizes and enriches a bona fide classic, adding sharp new angles to one of modern theatre’s most enduring love triangles.

The basic structure of Rostand’s original remains: the daring Cyrano pines for Roxane (a marvellously bold Stephanie Sy) who’s struck in the feels by the piercing glance of a newcomer named Christian (Darren Martens at his best), who looks great in the mirror but not so much on paper.

When Roxane asks the dreamboat to woo her through handwritten letters, he asks the self-critical poet to be his ghostwriter, aiming to earn Roxane’s affection with Cyrano’s wit “cloaked” in Christian’s good looks.

A modern corollary: asking a friend to man the keyboard in an MSN Messenger chat with a crush, or — yuckier — prompting AI to compose a sonnet for your beloved.

In Ardern’s telling, and through Sy’s top-notch embodiment of the role, Roxane’s plight is fashioned as one of tragicomic brilliance.

This queen wants to move in whichever direction she pleases, not to simply follow a path predetermined by her station in life: she dreams of being seen by more than the eye. And, if anyone messes with her, trusty aide Marie (simply written by Ardern, hilariously executed by Megan McArton) will surely give them what-for.

This two-hour, 45-minute production (with intermission) soars through its runtime without sagging, thanks to tightly choreographed direction by Amanda Goldberg, who chooses to open the production by making intriguing use of the John Hirsch Mainstage’s balconies.

Before meeting Cyrano, the audience is cast as the crowd at a stodgy performance by an old-fashioned rival of de Bergerac’s (Braydon Dowler-Coltman) at the Theatre Française. Far above the action are Roxane and a pair of overzealous suitors, De Guiche (Brian Hamman) and Valvert (Andrew Cecon, in one of three well-done roles), who, in isolation, perceive their guest as their joint property.

This non-traditional staging serves as an initial reminder to the RMTC audience that the society depicted is stratified and defined by class, appearance and gender.

It is the first urging by the playwright and the production for the audience members to consider their own proximity to the action and to place their own experiences within the context of the script; it’s a tad gimmicky, but undeniably effective.

By the time Cyrano vaults into action, we’re assured that the animal instincts of competition and courtship rituals will shape the narrative that follows.

But what Ardern’s script — written and performed in impeccable rhyme — reminds us is that what separates humankind from peacocks, cockatoos and rhinoceroses is our ability to communicate: the words we speak to others, and to ourselves, can reduce or even eliminate the stresses of expressing inner desires or feelings.

It’s the tragedy of this sharp-tongued comedy that our heroes don’t recognize their blessings sooner.

The heights of the adaptation and of the cast’s performance on opening night — hardly a beat is missed in the rhyming scheme — are met and supported by the production’s design team, who deliver a holistic, interconnected experience that begins with Beyata Hackborn’s set.

It’s a romantic space defined as much by what is there — arcing staircases, sweeping bartops and dreamy balconies — as what isn’t — keystones, bricks and other strengthening materials — hinting at the incompleteness each character experiences when in solitude.

Costume designer Deanna Finnman’s work is notable for its variety and its utility: the garments worn by the performers exude both nobility and hardiness, ready for the battlefield of love.

Hugh Conacher’s lighting is caring and sparingly intense, with high points coming in candlelit scenes and in a chaotic, bombastic war zone.

During the penultimate act, the lighting, paired with Maddie Bautista’s tense sound design, Hackborn’s set — and the action within it — causes a gravitational shift as colonial conflict and romantic competition envelop the cast in shadow and echo.

This production is infectiously rhythmic and affecting and its stars will leave you searching for the best words to express the experience.

We suggest “unforgettable.”

ben.waldman@winnipegfreepress.com

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