First-class productions of The White Devil are few and far between in New York—hell, any productions of The White Devil are about as rare as sightings of Bigfoot in Central Park. According to the record books, John Webster’s seething revenge drama of 1612 vintage has never appeared on Broadway, and has been staged only twice by off-Broadway companies.
So it is a pleasure to report that Red Bull Theater, the invaluable company which brings very old plays to life, presents a smashing new staging of The White Devil at the Lucille Lortel Theatre.
Jacobean revenge drama is not a genre appreciated by everybody, of course. While Hamlet is a revenge play of a lofty poetic order, lesser others are the 1600s equivalent of slasher flicks.
Still, anyone who enjoys a furious mix of sex, violence, murder, and generally nasty behavior by corrupt elites in high places is likely to get a kick out of The White Devil, especially when such dirty doings are performed so stylishly as Red Bull’s rendition.
The story? Webster’s plotting is intricate, but here’s his initial trail of gunpowder that leads to explosions in Rome and Padua:
A powerful nobleman, the married Duke of Brachiano (Daniel Oreskes) begins a torrid affair with the also-married aristocrat Vittoria (Lisa Birnbaum), arranged by her ambitious, possibly incestuous, brother Flamineo (Tommy Schrider). To clear the way for their liaison, Brachiano then has his wife Isabella (Jenny Bacon) and Vittoria’s husband Camillo (Derek Smith) killed off in devious ways, also through Flamineo’s machinations.
The dead spouses, however, have influential relatives, namely the Duke of Florence (T. Ryder Smith) and Cardinal Monticelso (Robert Cuccioli), who later is elected Pope. When they smell something rotten, all sorts of turmoil results, among them a rigged trial, excommunication, a prison break, and any number of gory murders. (I lost count after seven homocides.)
Expect no moral uplift here. A brew of uncontrollable passions, treachery, and vengeance sprinkled with darkly poetic language—“We think caged birds sing when indeed they cry”—the story might be applied to our present amoral times of Crown Prince Mohammed Bin Salman: “Princes give rewards with their own hands, but death or punishment by the hands of others.”
Accordingly, The White Devil is inventively staged with modern accouterments by director Louisa Proske, who does it all up swiftly and smartly.
Live video plus several very striking filmed sequences (designed by Yana Birÿkova) are deployed along with insinuating electronic music and sound effects (designed by Chad Raines) to heighten the play’s feverish mood. Set designer Kate Noll builds out a thrust stage deeply into the auditorium to shove the action closer to spectators, some of whom in the front rows were observed to flinch from the occasional spatter. Oh, yes—power drills and similar 2019 implements substitute for the daggers of Webster’s era. (And a murder by way of a poisoned helmet is ingeniously updated for today’s pastimes.)
But such trappings might go for naught had not Proske directed a sterling 11-member ensemble so splendidly. This sensational play’s ceaseless shifts in tone between suspense, dark comedy, and horror are challenging to navigate, yet under Proske’s guidance, the actors easily glide over its seismic changes. They also speak the play’s florid language naturally and clearly.
Daniel Oreskes, ever a brooding, even menacing, presence as Brachiano, strikes sparks with Lisa Birnbaum’s libidinous, gutsy Vittoria, who defies everyone who threatens her. T. Ryder Smith’s dryly sinister Duke and Tommy Schrider’s sleazy Flamineo contrast against Robert Cuccioli’s low-keyed depiction of the cunning Cardinal. Another kind of contrast is provided by Derek Smith, who appears first in preppy attire as Vittoria’s milquetoast of a doomed husband and then roars back into the story in greasy locks and black leather as the debauched Lodovico, a flamboyant sociopath. The remainder of the company, enabled by Beth Goldenberg’s apt costumes, distinctively portray several characters apiece.
Such blazing performances amid bold modern visuals restore The White Devil to lusty life, and while there’s no edifying message to take home, the show delivers a great deal of wicked fun.
