‘Venus in Fur’ cranks up the comedy and the sexual heat
If the Lowndes Shakespeare Center’s Mandell Theater had windows, surely they would be steamed over after a performance of “Venus in Fur,” onstage in an Orlando Shakes production that’s, well, steamy.
Directed with a sure hand by Monica Long Tamborello, this “Venus in Fur” is also very funny — in fact, much funnier than I remember previous productions of David Ives’ 2011 play being. But this is comedy with bite and sizzle, and Tamborello and her actors make each moment count in this sexual tug-of-war.
Scenic designer Steven K. Mitchell has turned the small Mandell Theater into a dingy New York City rehearsal room, complete with old-school radiator and ugly fluorescent lights that flicker in tandem with the thunder outside. (The effective lighting is by Philip Lupo.) Here, playwright-director Thomas (Walter Kmiec) has been auditioning women all day to star in his new play, an adaptation of the 19th-century German novel “Venus in Furs,” a founding tome in the practice of masochism.
He’s condescendingly dismissive of the audition hopefuls as the show opens, caustically remarking over the phone that he needs “a woman who can pronounce ‘degradation’ … without a tutor.” Then Vanda (Tracie Lane) blows into the room, mouth running a mile a minute, hours late and determined to read for the role.
That reading quickly develops an erotic charge based in part on the play’s subject matter — a man who longs to be dominated because of an incident in his adolescence — and the sparks that start flying between Thomas and Vanda.
The joy for the audience is in watching these two actors turn the audition on its head: Who is controlling the situation? And who is enjoying being in control … or being controlled?
Vanda is the showier character, and Lane does masterful work flipping between squawking New Yorker Vanda the auditioner and the refined European character she hopes to portray. Her very essence changes as it becomes clear she’s more than what she first appeared to be.
For this sort of battle of the sexes to work, both characters must be interesting. And Kmiec, in a more unlikable role — he calls his fiancee “doll” on the phone, for Pete’s sake — holds his own. His chest puffs up when Vanda outfits him in a frock coat, and he captures that self-conscious and self-congratulatory smile of a writer reading his own words to an appreciative audience.
Both actors showcase deft timing and delivery to land each laugh. And critically, in this sexually charged play, Tamborello makes sure the audience falls a little bit in love with each of them.
Ives’ play, at times, feels a little too full of itself; some of the writing tries to sound more clever than it actually is, and while most of the twists and turns delight, eventually, it dilutes its own power by taking things a twist or two too far. Also, interestingly — maybe a meta moment? — in a play concerned about ideas of power and dominance, although the female character is more forceful, she is the one Ives puts into leather lingerie, while the male character stays fully clothed.
In the end, if “Venus in Fur” comes with a deeper message than we all might be subjugating our desires in order to feel in control, well, that message is hazy. But the sexy fun of this erotic romp is crystal clear.
‘VENUS IN FUR’
Length: 95 minutes, no intermission
Where: Lowndes Shakespeare Center, 812 E. Rollins St. in Orlando When: Through March 3 Cost: $34.98 and up
Info: orlandoshakes.org