THEATER REVIEW ‘LES LIAISONS DANGEREUSES’ : Bedroom Humor : A sardonic farce exposes the moral bankruptcy of two scheming sexual entrepreneurs.

If you’re the type who likes to pluck the wings off flies, then boy have I got a play for you. In its second Central Coast outing in three months, “Les Liaisons Dangereuses” once again uncovers a peephole into the decadent antics of the 18th-Century French aristocracy, whose amoral pursuit of power and pleasure elevated cruelty to a skillful art.

More successful than the recent offering at Santa Barbara’s Garvin Theatre, PCPA Theaterfest’s impressively executed production details Christopher Hampton’s systematic corruption of human values with chilling clarity. Adapted by Hampton from the notorious 1782 novel by Choderlos de Lachos (a book that was banned only after every literate family in France had obtained a copy), it serves up moral bankruptcy wrapped within the racy, lacy curtains of sardonic bedroom farce.

Director Roger DeLaurier not only understands the multilayered complexity of his material, but rather than simply staging it to revel in the sexploits of the rich and famous he’s set out to illuminate the inherent cautionary moral in its depths.

At its heart, we find a pair of scheming sexual entrepreneurs well-matched in the arena of amorous conquest to which they’ve devoted themselves. The Vicomte de Valmont (Stephen Paul Johnson) and the Marquise de Merteuil (Lisa Paulsen) were even onetime lovers, though they’ve tabled their own liaison for the sake of savoring their respective conquests.

Their adventures include deflowering a virgin fresh from the convent (Margaret Trujillo), recreational toying with a young man’s (Michael Heelan’s) first passion, and seducing a devoted wife (Karen Barbour) whose unshakable morality is the forbidden fruit that tantalizes Valmont to a maddening frenzy.

“How much I enjoy watching the battle between love and virtue,” he beams with obvious relish. Unfortunately, he himself makes the bad tactical move of falling in love with his victim, which undermines all the rules he lives by and threatens his delicate alliance with Merteuil. Sexy and ironic, Johnson gives a masterful performance, guiding us through all the phases of Valmont’s arrogant manipulation, self-loathing and his ultimate recognition--too late--that the escape from personal hell lies in the simple feelings he could never acknowledge.

Paulsen’s Merteuil proves a worthy match for Valmont; she’s also a monster who delights in manipulation and systematic cruelty.

“I always knew I was born to dominate your sex and avenge myself on it,” she declares. But despite this noteworthy concession to the limited possibilities that 18th-Century French society held out for women of brilliance and ambition, it’s flimsy ground for dramatic motive.

Monsters are made, not born, yet the playwright offers no personal context for Merteuil. She simply descends like a vengeful abstraction, in contrast to the tangible human circumstances that shaped Medea or Hedda Gabler into great villains, for example.

Which makes Paulsen’s achievement in bringing reality to Merteuil all the more impressive. There’s a visceral sense of bottled-up rage, and when unleashed it strikes with devastating intensity. This is a woman with an ax to grind, but whatever injustices created her cannot be held out as an excuse. Paulsen never gives in to a softening touch.

DeLaurier’s staging keeps the currents clear beneath the dizzying surface of plots and counterplots, rendering the whole piece a dance executed without a misstep.

Appropriately, DeLaurier’s boldest innovation augments the script with a pair of framing minuets (choreography by Carolyn Shouse). In the prologue, an ensemble bearing white masks performs a variation on the traditional steps with an air of elegant flirtation. After the final scene, they reassemble but this time the masks are black, the music ominously distorted, and after an accusatory confrontation Merteuil and her fellow purebreds dance off to the embrace of the guillotine.

The closing nod to the Revolution that would follow only seven years later is hardly gratuitous. It’s a matter of cause and effect.

* WHERE AND WHEN

“Les Liaisons Dangereuses” will be performed through Sunday at the Allan Hancock College Interim Theatre in Santa Maria. Evening performances ($13.50) are at 8 p.m. tonight through Saturday and 7 p.m. on Sunday; matinees ($10.50) are at 2 p.m. Saturday and Sunday. There will be no late seating. Tickets are available through all TicketMaster outlets, or call (800) 221-9469.