Les Liaisons Dangereuses

Bristol Old Vic

You can tell there are new hands on the wheel. The foyer of Bristol Old Vic has been denuded of its trimmings and stripped back to bare concrete, leaving a neo-Stalinist interior reminiscent of the National Theatre. From the minute you step through the door, you know that 'new bristol old vic' - as the theatre currently styles itself - is now a serious playgoing venue. David Farr and Simon Reade have been appointed as the new artistic directors, and their fiery manifesto published in the Independent declared that "provincial theatre is defunct": so defunct that even the signs to the toilets have been repainted in a utilitarian sans serif typeface which oozes metropolitan arthouse minimalism.

It is therefore disappointing to report that the first production under the new regime is, well, provincial. Very provincial. It may be that Farr and Reade have decided to adopt a stealth approach which startles no horses, slowly weaning the punters onto the harder stuff. But if that is the case, they have underestimated the existing capacity of Bristolians to digest stimulating and exciting theatre. Even in the bad old days, Old Vic audiences could handle a bit more edge to their productions. As staged here, Les Liaisons Dangereuses would sit comfortably in one of the genteel provincial houses where a sports jacket and tie are still considered de rigeur for a trip to the theatre.

There is nothing inherently wrong with this production. Rupert Penry-Jones's Vicomte de Valmont is perfectly formed, an exquisite blend of languid self-confidence and bleak misanthropy. The sleek professionalism of his comic timing is a wonder to behold. The rest of the cast give equally irreproachable performances. If there is any ground for complaint, it is that the scenes between Valmont and the Marquise de Mertuil (Dervla Kirwan), his partner in plotting and companion in cynical gameplaying, fail to achieve any sort of fizz due to the fact that Kirwan is strangely glazed and prone to staring off extensively into the middle distance. Tom Piper's set is a pleasant enough conjunction of moving pillars and pastoral backdrop, not dissimilar to the set of the Old Vic's production of A Busy Day. Director Samuel West has done his job competently, ensuring that the jokes get the laughs, even if the bleakness which saturates Christopher Hampton's script is somewhat diluted in performance. The scene changes are beautifully staged, sketching out the entr'acte actions in half-light. There is even a cameo appearance by a very fine Philip Treacy hat. It is, in other words, a very decent provincial production of a pleasantly entertaining play. It would be perfect as a touring production intended to call at Salisbury, Cambridge and Harrogate. But as the curtain-raiser for the Old Vic's reincarnation as 'the National State Theatre of Bristol' with the aim of offering "theatre that is genuinely challenging", Les Liaisons Dangereuses is worryingly undangerous.

Toby O'Connor Morse