Intended originally by the playwright as a closet play to be performed by his close circle of friends in the privacy of their homes, this satire exposed the low sexual mores of the Vienna of his time, but his audiences would find that it is a depiction of the shallow amorous pursuits of men of all climes and times. Rejecting the realism of Ibsen and the naturalism and expressionism of Strindberg, Schnitzler ventured into his own individual vision of dramatic expression that did not shun a highly contrived plot that lay below the level of plausibility if that was what his artistic intention required.
La Ronde is drawn as a circle in which a number of couples meet in sexual dalliance.
The Prostitute (Val Trono) entices the Soldier (Miguel Vasquez) she meets at the Augarten Bridge to sample her attractions free of charge. The Soldier meets the Parlor Maid (Donnah Alcantara) who resists his advances at first but, because of his persistence, she eventually gives in.
In her master’s house, the Parlor Maid attends to the Young Gentleman (Miguel Castro) who makes advances on his servant, not without success in his intention. In a house on the Schwind Gasse, the Young Gentleman has an assignation with the Young Wife (Maritina Romulo) who tries to excuse herself saying that she has only a few minutes because she needs to rush to her sister’s house. He applies gentle persuasion to make her stay and he has his will of her.
At home, in the bedroom, the Young Wife exchanges pleasantries and lies with her Husband (Richmond Tan) until they fall asleep. In a private room at the Riedhof Restaurant, the Husband pretends to fall in love with the Sweet Young Thing (Angela Baesa) who does not remain deaf to his amorous pleas. In a small but elegant room, the Sweet Young Thing is touched by the sweet phrases of the Poet (Andre Tiangco) and succumbs to his boyish charm.
In a country inn, the Poet converses with the Actress (Mona Katigbak) on various subjects from God to the beauty of the countryside. One thing leads to another and before you can say Arthur Schnitzler, their arms and legs are intertwined in an age-old rite. In the Actress’ bedroom, the woman vamps the Count (Ku Aquino) in an extended foreplay that involves childish prattle and verbal abuse. In a dingy room, the Count tells the Prostitute she reminds him of someone he had known in the past but she couldn’t care less. The circle is now complete.
States Jeremy Domingo in his director’s notes: "Through an elliptical series of carnal escapades, La Ronde illuminates human nature at its most desperate and amusing. The rituals of seduction (and escape routes that follow) aren’t limited to our Victorian-era heroes and heroines in this comedy of manners. What perhaps began as Schnitzler’s assessment and criticism of sexual mores of 1890s Vienna has evolved into a fertile theatrical entity more timeless and universal than the author could have imagined at the time of its writing."
Two-thumbs up for director Domingo and his splendid cast for this production. And three cheers to president and artistic director Tony Espejo. With his guidance, how can GTF fail?
The one-nun comedy is being staged weekends at the Carlos P. Romulo Theater by Bahaghari Production, Studios Entertainment, Inc., courtesy of Repertory Philippines. The two-act play is by Vicky Quade and Maripat Donovan.
Directed by Carmen "Baby" Barredo, the comedy stars Zeneida "Bibot" Amador as the nun-teacher and the audience in the theater as her pupils.
In the original script first presented in St. Luke’s Annex in New York City in 1996, there was another character in the second act – a Guatemalan priest – a character that according to critic Howard Kissel of the Daily News was not quite effective. The local production dispenses with this character – and for good reason. With Amador dominating the stage with her enormous presence, there isn’t any room for anyone else – and this is not meant in the physical sense.
Who can’t forget her Lady Bracknel in Rep’s The Importance of Being Earnest a few seasons ago? When she unleashed the comic ironies of Oscar Wilde’s venerable dowager with her double chin up and her eyes in a glance that could reduce even the quick-witted Jack into stone in a thunderous contralto – "Found? In an ordinary handbag in Victoria Station?" – who did not empathize with the young man whose fate was being sealed by this Victorian Medusa? Amador’s admiring fans would place her on a pedestal side by side with Judi Dench or Martita Hunt depending on which generation they belong to. They can sense that she is not simply acting but being.
How does she fare as Sister? One might will ask, do ducks take to water? The role does not simply call for her to memorize her lines. It requires a lot of ad libbing especially when Sister interacts with her pupils. One cannot foresee what they would ask or say. She does not only need to give a sound answer. It has to be witty and funny too in the spirit of the play.
Who are her grown-up pupils supposed to be? They could be people who are going to be baptismal or confirmation sponsors who need to know enough of the Catholic faith to answer the questions of the priest during the ceremony. It is a crash-course on religion.
Like any other teacher, Sister has a blackboard. On it are written the names of Saints Veronica, Simon Stylites, Mary Magdalene, Joseph and Patrick and she asks the class to decide on whether they deserve to be considered saints. Her own answers are not so much in accordance with doctrine as they are unexpected and funny.
Whom did Abel and Cain marry? And did God really create the world in only six days? This question leads Sister to remark on the theory of evolution and a serious view of Genesis which certain non-Catholic churches take literally. Vatican II has given its judgment on this issue.
Sister says that she is following the footsteps of a predecessor who gave catechism classes, Sister Mary Bernard, who was so old that she might have been a waitress at the Last Supper. This may not sound funny here but when delivered by Amador with the right intonation in her husky baritone, it’s a riot.
As in all comedies, not all the wisecracks work. A few fall short of their marks but, on the whole, Late Nite Catechism is one hell of a good show – trust veteran thespian Zeneida Amador to make sure of that.
I’d like to add as a footnote a personal account – and this is absolutely true. During the show, my attention was caught by a man seated in my line of vision if I turned my head a little to my right. He was a short burly fellow around 30, heavily bearded and with Middle Eastern features. I imagined him to be an al-Qaeda fanatic on a bombing mission on his day off who had wandered into the theater to have a good time like any ordinary tourist and didn’t get it. Poor fellow! Laughter would have washed away all his unholy designs and taught him that in spite of this life’s imperfections, it’s still great to be alive.