Stolen Chair's delightful new production of The Man Who Laughs, a show they originally staged in 2005, is a well-played novelty with several layers of dramatic and historical interest beyond the sheer fun of seeing a show that's staged just like a black and white silent film, with live piano accompaniment (by the excellent Eugene Ma), and projected title cards replacing spoken dialogue.
Based on the 1869 Victor Hugo novel of the same name, this comic tragedy concerns thwarted love, class divisions, and the universal relevance of the freak show. (A real silent film of the story was released in 1928). Though set in 17th century England it could take place – or at least be phantasmagorically imagined – just about anywhere and anytime. If you're familiar with the Batman universe's Joker character, you'll get the trope of "the man who laughs." An orphan named Gwynplaine is kidnapped by unholy "comprachicos" who mutilate his face into a permanent rictus in order to profit by showing him off as a freak.
Dave Droxler in the title role of The Man Who Laughs, photo by Carrie Leonard
Later, abandoned, he adopts a blind baby off the breast of a frozen-to-death mother, and with his tiny charge finds refuge at the home of a ventriloquist and showman named Ursus. Years later, with baby Dea now a comely young woman, Ursus creates a successful comic act featuring "The Blind Beauty" and "The Man Who Laughs," a show that climaxes, in this telling, with a brilliantly staged live-marionette sequence. This centerpiece of the show may be worth the price of admission in itself. But life never just goes on, whatever your era or country or line of work. Gwynplaine isn't content as merely a comical figure to be laughed it. And a fateful encounter with a slumming Duchess and her foppish admirer threatens to bring the tent down over the heads of the makeshift family troupe.