Apollinaire’s ‘Prudencia Hart’ a Rare Theatrical Find

by Nicholas Whittaker

‘The Strange Undoing of Prudencia Hart’ – Written by David Greig. Directed by Danielle Fauteux Jacques. Music Direction and Sound Design by David Reiffel. Stage Manager/Choreographer: Christie Lee Gibson. ASM: Robin Mackey. Costume Design. Elizabeth Rocha. Set/Lighting Design: Danielle Fauteux Jacques. Dialect Coach: Christopher Sherwood Davis. Box Office Manager: Nina Weiss. Presented by Apollinaire Theatre Company at Chelsea Theater Works through May 4th.

            When one walks into the theater for The Strange Undoing of Prudencia Hart, they should be forgiven for thinking that they were in the wrong place. Rather than standing before a standard stage, one finds themselves surrounded by long wooden benches and stools, with a beer-and-wine stocked bar to one side. The cast loudly sings traditional Scottish melodies in the corner, and the buzzing room feels more like a warmly-lit tavern than a playhouse minutes before a show begins. This kind of transformational power is the calling card of Apollinaire Theatre Company’s production, The Strange Undoing of Prudencia Hart. With tremendous wit, elegance, and bawdy energy, the play rethinks the theatrical and dramatic tradition, combining the past and future in a thrilling exploration of the power and complexity of narrative.

            The play begins with the arrival of the eponymous character, a reserved and voracious academic, at an academic conference in a small Scottish town. Prudencia Hart’s academic expertise lies in the Scottish ballad. She is obsessed with the archaic dramatic form, and spends the beginning of the play loudly decrying its replacement by (in her mind), crass and ugly modern modes of art. Hart wishes nothing more than to return to a world in which the ballad, and the kind of rustic, anti-modernist beauty it conjures up for her, is not forgotten. In a bitter irony, she gets her wish when she becomes caught up in a ballad of her own. Like the heroines she so admires, Hart’s time on earth is brought to an abrupt end when she is visited by the devil himself, who whisks her away to spend eternity in Hell as his companion.

            Much of the play’s success goes to the twinned wit and creativity of David Greig’s script, first produced in 2011, and Danielle Fauteux Jacques’ direction. Greig is fascinated with the intellectual nuances around artistic form, and is equipped to give these gradations the clever attention they are due. Much of the first act is dedicated to snidely argued academic debates over the ballad, Scottish identity, and the notion of folk narration. These discussions never fall into stodgy dialectics played out in laughably obtuse jargon. Such academy-speak is in fact lambasted throughout the production. And yet Greig clearly respects earnest curiosity. Stripping folk studies and academic theory of its elitism, Greig allows the audience to grapple with these questions on their own terms. In his often brilliant hand, the meaning of narrative and identity becomes an urgent affair not only for academics, but for every audience member.

            Greig’s folk-lyrical text could only be as compelling as it is here thanks to the equally-ingenious direction of Jacques. Under her guidance, the play lives out the tension between past and future, self and history that Greig is concerned with. Jacques’ staging is a hybrid between folk and avant-garde theater. In the first act, Jacques leans into the pub-like atmosphere filling the room. The play’s narration occurs via the ensemble cast, who seamlessly roll through bit characters with fantastic energy in between providing informal, wry commentary on the unfolding drama. With this, Jacques manufactures a conspiratory sentiment between the cast and the audience that often dips into true collaboration. While a whiff of “audience participation” can often send average theater-goers into nervous fits, Jacques manages to break the line between performer and watcher not by forcing individuals into unbearably awkward encounters, but through simple, elegant flourishes – the audiences tosses confetti in the air to create the illusion of snow, and cast-members often take a seat amongst the audience to watch the show. Jacques’ cast invests these ploys with an infectious sense of play and droll wit, never falling into overacting or discomfort. One begins, after a time, to truly imagine themselves holed up in some forgotten taphouse, listening to a tale being spun before their eyes.

But Jacques is not content with falling into tradition, just as Greig does not allow Hart to become too comfortable with her dreams of an idyllic past. Jacques is willing to push the production in more future-oriented directions, creating a fascinating theatrical hybrid. The majority of the second act takes place on a single tabletop, warped by astounding lighting work by Jacques herself. When the show takes on a more horrific bent, her staging instills a sincere feeling of dread in the viewer. In these and other endeavors, Jacques works to unite the past and future of storytelling. The result is always entertaining, and is often beautiful.

           The same can be said for Jacques’s cast. Becca A. Lewis as Prudencia Hart is stunning, crafting a gorgeously complicated image of the professor. Lewis’ forceful presence is in large part due to her command of the character; she knows the ins and outs of how Hart thinks and feels, allowing her to embody distinct moments in her evolution with seamless ease. Lewis takes a potentially one-note character and develops her into something much more. The world abounds with takes on the Devil, ranging from caricaturesque to funny to tragic to terrifying. Keith Foster leans heavily into the Prince of Darkness’ charm, veiling his eventually-catastrophic rage with dollops of ever-so-slightly-sad charisma. What Foster most deserves praise for is that this never seems phony or devious. His Devil is genuinely pleasant and kind, which makes his final descent into hellish passion all the more felt – it is not the dissolution of a facade to reveal the “true” Devil, but is rather the earnest and heartbreaking collapse of his happiness, such as it were. And the ensemble, as noted above, is a massively fun collection of professors, drunk party girls, grizzled old men, ghosts, bartenders…the list goes on. They are chameleonic, caught up in a hilarious game of pretend. Special praise goes to Brooks Reeves, playing Coloin Syme, who presents a breathtakingly funny image of the pop intellectual that never descends into pure mockery, a perfect antithesis to Hart herself.

            The Strange Undoing of Prudencia Hart is a success on many levels. If one is merely seeking a diverting production, or one that pushes the boundaries of arthouse theater, or one that provides a riveting romantic drama, then this play is more than sufficient. But Prudencia Hart astounds because it goes further, to truly interrogate the meaning of theater, or storytelling itself, to ask hard and rigorous questions without expecting easy answers. This is infinitely more rare than a pleasurable night out, and is all the more valuable for it. For tickets and info, go to: https://www.apollinairetheatre.com/