THE ALCHEMIST
LOCATION: Loeb Experimental Theatre
DATES: Dec. 1-3
DIRECTORS: Sean R. Fredricks’07 and Simon N. Nicholas’07
PRODUCER: Rowan W. Dorin’07

Amidst a myriad of flasks and his “black arts” chemicals and wearing an opulent gold brocade robe, the alchemist pursues his treacherous craft. But this craft in not merely the spurious production of gold; rather, the alchemist’s true art lies is his ability to exploit human weakness. The Harvard-Radcliffe Dramatic Club’s (HRDC) masterful presentation of Jacobean dramatist Ben Jonson’s “The Alchemist” succeeds in transcending its titular seventeenth century pseudoscience to provide a humorous look at the foibles of mankind.

With a colorfully assorted and hilarious cast of characters—including a woefully simple-minded law clerk and fire-and-brimstone Anabaptist, “The Alchemist” brings a compelling story to the Harvard stage. Driven by greed, each fool seeks the supernatural aid of the alchemist (aptly named Subtle, played by Steve A. Travierso ’09) and is subsequently duped out of his worldly possessions. Face (Zachary B. Sniderman ’09 ), a crafty butler with an absentee master, and Dol (Alexandra M. Jacobs ’08), a ferocious prostitute, are Subtle’s scheming business partners. Together, they form an explosive alliance of deceit and swindle every hapless “gull” they can find.

Of course, before long the whole tightly controlled operation begins to get out of hand. Amidst bickering between the three villains, the gulls begin arriving at inconvenient times and Face is hard-pressed to accommodate their needs (after all, there is only one prostitute). Thus ensues a chaotic and hilarious juggling act, which Face manages until his master returns unexpectedly to the uproarious house.

In a nod to Jacobean dramatist Ben Jonson’s belief in educative comedy, the program states the intention of the play is to “better humankind by allowing people to see their own follies through the sugared depiction of comedy.” Co-directors Sean R. Fredricks ’07 and Simon N. Nicholas ’07 succeed admirably in drawing the audience into the play. In an innovative opening scene, the absent master of the house lures a giggling audience member on stage by tickling her with a flamboyant white feather, and then commences to introduce the play.

The entire cast should be commended for their delightfully over-the-top characterizations and their facile delivery of Elizabethan lines, which both helped the audience follow the rather complicated plot. Also bolstering the viewing experience was a cleverly engineered upper balcony leading to the front door allowed the three cozeners to evaluate their approaching victims and let the audience enjoy the often dramatic exits of the tricked gulls.

The lighting seemed rather conventional in comparison with the unusual antics of the play, yet the costume design—including Subtle’s glittering and immensely gaudy ruby ring and the Anabaptist pastor Tribulation’s vampire-esque black cloak—was fitting, inventive, and deliciously extravagant.

Sniderman creates a superbly farcical yet self-contained Face, the show’s most profound character. Acting as the sycophant, the officious hustler, and the meek servant with equal ease, Sniderman brings an understated humor to Face’s many roles. He mimics the antics of the gulls with relish but is just as entertaining when he stands removed from the action, a sly smile playing at his lips. Jacobs, too, gives a forceful and lively performance as the fiery Dol.

Travierso is a remarkably expressive Subtle. His facial contortions and impassioned eye and hand gestures carry his performance, although his longer monologues are sometimes tiring and overdone. Travierso’s best scenes are those that showcase his skillful use of his body—and his mime-like rendition of pipe-smoking provides an especially humorous aside.

It is difficult to single out performers from the uniformly gifted supporting cast, but Brian C. Polk ’09 deserves special mention for his performance as a strutting, flashy Sir Epicure Mammon, complete with the toothy lurid smile indicative of his character’s “voluptuous mind.”

Well-directed and brilliantly acted, “The Alchemist” draws modern audiences into its unwavering yet comical depiction of man’s greed and subsequent vulnerability. By the end of the show, it is clear that the raw material of the alchemist’s dark work does not concern the metal in his laboratory, but rather the timeless human weaknesses, which even modern audiences possess.