He’s the charlatan trickster, donning the man-bunned garb of a pseudo-cult leader, sucking blood like a parasite from the eager and willing patriarch of the family, played solidly by Kevin Doyle (RSC’s Henry IV).
In this updated ramshackle witty new version, Denis O’Hare, with hipster freewheeling charm, captivates with his outrageousness, cross legged and hobo-like within Blanche McIntyre’s perfectly funny production. I had never seen the play, and with a fine and modern adaptation by John Donnelly, Tartuffe strutted onto the stage, just like he did back in 1664, but this production, unlike that first, wasn’t banned immediately, but embraced and applauded. Starring the formidable and adorable Denis O’Hare, who I was lucky enough to see so many moons ago in Take Me Out, the two of us couldn’t resist the opportunity to see Molière’s classic comedy, Tartuffe, or the Imposter. The rest, I’ve either already seen in New York, like the spectacular Hamilton and heartbreaking Come From Away, or I’m patiently waiting for Tina and the lot to fly over the pond and land on Broadway. That’s not to say that there wasn’t some great musicals playing, and my theatre companion did have a solo ticket for one, but, being the self-proclaimed junkie that I am, I had already seen the National Theatre‘s gorgeous production of Follies, and, I’m proud to say, I had also already seen the other Sondheim masterpiece, Company starring Rosalie Craig and Patti LuPone (although I was very tempted to go see it again, especially as my traveling companion was going on our second night in London). All plays, surprisingly, and no musicals (although I did do something about that in the last hours of my stay). It’s a bit crazy, I fully admit, this thing that we do when in London but how can one help themselves? When boarding the flight from NYC to London Heathrow, we had six pairs of tickets a few at the National Theatre, one at the Old Vic (a theatre I have never actually set my feet inside), with all the others being planted in the West End. In one week, this frontmezzjunkie and his fellow addict saw more theatre then I care to admit.
Throw me that flower, Denis O’Hare, the captivating hobo star of the National‘s Tartuffe, you saucy little minx, because my heart beats strong and the London theatre scene of March 2019 is just my kind of party, and I’m guessing yours too.
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