Review: Cyrano (Park Theatre)

Review by Sam Waite

⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️

From the original Rostand play to its many adaptations, the handful of stage musicals written in its wake, comedy films, dramatic films, Netflix teen gender-swaps and Disney Channel hip-hop takes, perhaps no one’s story is more well-known that Cyrano de Bergerac’s. It's easy to assume any new version may simply be a derivative retelling, a lifeless, unoriginal spin of a record long-since burned out. Those assumptions, though, haven't taken into account the unique presence of Virginia Gay.

Gay’s Cyrano begins as a meta-theatrical exercise, its small ensemble (named in the programme as 1, 2, and… you'll never guess!) ambling about in an effort to decide which scene ought to be performed next. 3 is a new addition and wants to know who this know-it-all hero they keep talking about is, and so enters Cyrano. She is an intellectual, blessed with endless skills in countless fields, but feels herself repulsive due to the size of her nose. The nose, as revealed by a “well-placed six inches” gag by love interest Roxanne, may not be the only thing keeping this gender-swapped Cyrano from her desires. When Christian, nicknamed Yan (“Why not Chris?” Cyrano asks in vain), makes his own entrance, the familiar story of one admirer speaking for another comes to light.

For me, the opening scenes of pure meta-theatre dragged ever so slightly, the conceit that but too forceful and all-encompassing. While I understand the necessity of this section in establishing the world of this theatre-within-a-theatre, it was hard not to be that a frustrated. Once Gay’s world is set-up, though, it proves to be a place of limitless beauty. In particular, Gay has a fine sense of Cyrano’s rich layer of sensuality, instilling in every interaction between Cyrano and Roxanne, Roxanne and Ian, and even Yan and Cyrano a throbbing tension born of the attraction Roxanne develops to Cyrano’s mind, for which Yan's powerful frame is merely a conduit.

Handed the difficult task of playing an Adonis without a thought in his head, Joseph Evans gives a real sense of buried desire to Yan. What he desires may be less classically clever as the other leading figures, and his own attraction to Roxanne may be as purely physical as hers to him will be proven, but with Evans there's never a doubt that there is genuine want. He also proves a stellar comedian, the uneducated voice among a crowd of people who just love letting you know how deep their knowledge of their craft is. Likewise, the air-headed, frequently put down 3 carries a degree of grace and purpose thanks to Tanvi Virmani’s committed portrayal.

1 and 2, the skilful duo of Tessa Wong and David Tarkenter, delight with their banter over whether new or old approaches to the story are the best course of action, both helping to create a sense of long-established camaraderie in this unlikely troupe. As object of affection Roxanne, Jessica Whitehurst brings a combination of girl-next-door approachability and passionate sexually that serves to rapidly advance the identity-hiding plot. Even Gay’s modern take on the character could be dull and lacking in her own personality, if not for the careful additions an actor of Whitehurst’s calibre provides.

Of course, the undisputed star of the production is Virginia Gay herself. Not only a talented playwright but also a finely-tuned actor, Gay’s Cyrano is a tempestuous blend of overwrought dramatics and carefully-buried frustrations, making it so easy to surmise that her feelings of unworthiness could run deeper than simply the size of her nose. Crucially, Gay has undeniable chemistry with both Whitehurst and Evans, leading to dynamic moments between them as pairs, and a deeply sensual moment of seduction between the trio.

Claire Watson does a masterful job directing the piece, with much-appreciated work from intimacy coordinator Ana Beatriz Meireles. The pair's work turns this scene of duplicitous seduction into an arrestingly erotic display, where Roxanne stimulates her selves over the words of her would-be lover overhead and Yan and Cyrano each treat the other as if they were Roxanne below. This was the moment where any lingering doubts from the over-meta opening faded away, and Cyrano became a glorious, sensual play whose use of this awkward framing guided us to this excruciatingly exciting moment.

Yes, this version of the ever-retold classic can be difficult to connect with at its start, but by the end the disconnect fades and it's difficult not to feel breathtakingly involved – not least because of an audience participation moment I won't spoil for those hoping to attend. While costumes and set from Amanda Stoodley are simple, a barren stage and rehearsal ware, this is by clear and effective design. We are supposed to be immersed in this world, and this world is – simply put – a barren and empty theatre.

Passionately, unapologetically individual and bringing a real sense of growth and change to such a well-known story, Cyrano wears its heart, mind, and soul upon its sleeve, and it's difficult not to find yourself enchanted by it. Opting, as I should mention, to not physically display Cyrano’s supposed ugliness, the show allows us to make our own judgements, form our own assumptions, and perhaps come to realise just how off the mark we were.

Cyrano plays at the Park Theatre until January 11th 2025

For tickets and information visit https://parktheatre.co.uk/event/cyrano/

Photos by Craig Sugden