Venus In Fur

A couple of years ago, Roman Polanski directed his wife in a film adaptation of David Ives’ play, Venus in Fur. Set entirely in a darkened New York theatre, it was resourceful filmmaking, as well as a masterful display of acting and a critical success for the oft embattled director. Until now, its limited 2014 release also represented the first time that most Sydney arts lovers received a taste of Ives’ powerful piece.

Based on the 1870s novel of the same name by Austrian author Leopold von Sacher- Masoch, Venus In Fur is a play within a play. It opens on a dark and stormy night, with realistic sound (Jessica James- Moody) and blinding lightning (lighting design by Sian James-Holland). A pampered theatre director, Thomas ( Gareth Reeves), speaks on the phone to his fiance, bemoaning the lack of a decent actress to play his play’s heroine, Vanda. He’s about to leave, when out of the rain appears a brash, ditzy blonde who strips off her fur coat to reveal a fetching leather outfit and dog collar. Vanda (Anna Houston), as she introduces herself, is several hours late for an audition with Thomas, for a role in the play she describes as ‘basically S&M.’ She begs to be allowed to read and; despite his initial obvious disdain for her; Thomas soon becomes entranced by her period accent and interpretation of ‘his’ Vanda. However, Vanda’s declarations of ‘I’m just a woman’ turn out to be off the mark, as she reveals herself as a smart actress who draws the hapless director into a compellingly edgy game, the ultimate aim of which is to punish him for his apparent misogyny.

Both are fascinating characters, brought to life by the two well-cast and capable leads. Thomas describes himself as a dilletante, a facet of his personality that isn’t the most obvious here. Some of the sexualised aspects of the play, as well as allusions to the director’s own unhealthy relationships with women, have been downplayed somewhat. Chemistry between the pair builds to a crescendo, yet humour is the order of the night as the audience repeatedly laugh out loud at Vanda’s over-the-top antics.

It seems astonishing that a play of this calibre is only making its Sydney debut now, yet it’s such a timeless piece it’s easy to forget it first appeared on Broadway in 2011. One can imagine a bigger theatre company staging it as a performance heavy with intricate sound design and cameras on set to display every angle of the action, accentuating each heightened emotion. This mental image appears a travesty when we watch Grace Barnes’ polished effort for Darlinghurst Theatre Company. She certainly can’t be described as a risk taker: audience members familiar with the text, or Polanski’s cinematic interpretation, will find little deviation from the norm. Yet when you put together an ensemble that collectively do their jobs this well, and place them in an environment befitting the play so perfectly, why change what isn’t broken?

Rating: 4.5 out of 5 stars