Theater Review : ‘Letter’ Gets Lost in Theatrical Translation

If you thought Hollywood ran roughshod over “The Scarlet Letter”--Nathaniel Hawthorne’s tale of repression, moral degradation and expiation in Puritan New England--you might want to give Phyllis Nagy’s theatrical adaptation of the novel, at the Ivy Substation, a wide berth.

Nagy attempts to contemporize, even deconstruct, Hawthorne’s classic by employing anachronistic language and trumped-up sexual subtexts so kinky that one suspects that the Puritans’ main economic staple must have been black leather. More a bastardization than a deconstruction, the result trivializes Hawthorne’s dark, morally ambivalent allegory and reduces his lush prose to the 17th century equivalent of Val-speak.

At play’s end, the Rev. Arthur Dimmesdale (Albert Dayan) longs to escape to Europe with his secret love Hester Prynne (Rebecca Marcotte) but is too physically weak for flight. In the novel, Dimmesdale briefly dallies with the notion of eloping with Hester and their natural daughter Pearl (Judy Young), but dismisses this “devil’s” temptation before publicly confessing his sin and expiring.

It would appear that Nagy would like to leave us with a final impression of Hester and Dimmesdale as sexual rebels, ready to throw off the moral shackles of the repressive New World and plunge themselves in the decadent Old, together at last. However, without being prefaced by Dimmesdale’s torturous self-abnegation, his long-delayed public confession loses its righteous thrust, becoming the last gasps of a puny soul.

The direction by Allison Liddi and Heather Ragsdale is as problematic as the play’s structure. The normally authoritative Liddi seems confounded by Nagy’s unwieldy blend of contemporary humor and melodrama. Sitcom laugh lines are followed by ponderous emotional exchanges, until the audience is as perplexed as the performers as to how to react, or why.

Nagy’s concept idea of casting Pearl with an adult performer is provocative, but doesn’t quite pay off. Realistically portraying a child is one of the more difficult feats an actor faces, and Young doesn’t avoid stumbling over the fine line into parody. As far as Marcotte’s stoical Hester is concerned, still waters do not necessarily run deep. When Gov. Bellingham (a sensible turn by J.R. Palmer) threatens to take Pearl away from Hester, Marcotte seems more bland than beleaguered.

One senses the possibility of a disciplined performance from Dayan, whose mannered fussiness could easily have been more finely tuned, given a little directorial restraint. Time Winters’ sure portrayal of Chillingworth, Hester’s husband, stands in stark relief against the general confusion.

Initially striking, Steven K. Mitchell’s set, with a vertiginous scaffold and pervasive plots of dirt, isn’t actor-friendly. All in all, this is a disappointing effort from the proven talents at singular productions.

* “The Scarlet Letter,” Ivy Substation, 9070 Venice Blvd, Culver City. Wednesdays-Saturdays, 8 p.m.; Sundays, 7 p.m. Ends May 11. $18. (310) 558-1555. Running time: 2 hours, 15 minutes.