A clever new take on an old form
Francesca Masini’s The Unfortunate Adventures of Pierrot, presented by The Travelling Players at Omnibus Theatre, is a modern take on a much older form of theatre: Commedia dell’arte. Popular in Europe between the 16th and 18th centuries, Commedia dell’arte consisted of improvised dialogue, masked stock characters and flamboyant physical comedy. Characters were divided into three main groups: the zanni (servants), the vecchi (masters/old men) and the innamorati (young lovers). The eponymous Pierrot, a classic stock character dressed in all-white, falls into the first camp. He is a loyal servant, a sad clown whose role it is to fall in love with an unattainable woman and then resign himself to supporting the love stories of others. His dramatic destiny is simple: he is supposed to fail, and his failures are supposed to make us laugh. However, in Masini’s production, Pierrot rejects his sorry fate and escapes the confines of the Commedia dell’arte plot in order to pursue his own love story in the real world.
Flung out into the 21st century, a complicated world that seems diametrically opposed to his own, Pierrot immediately falls in love with a young, somewhat cynical woman called Lune. The only problem? She already has a boyfriend called Victor, and he’s the jealous type. Brutish and tall, he is the uninspiring macho man, the “I’ll get the bill” man, the “I’m going out with the boys” man. Their relationship is dominated by Victor’s not-so-subtle put-downs of Lune, his latent aggression, and the eventual revelation that he has been cheating with a minor called Mindy. It quickly becomes apparent that Pierrot’s world has more in common with modern realities than we’d like to admit. Victor himself is a stock character, a blubbering product of the manosphere. He is 21st century Commedia dell’arte gold.

Masini has done well to combine traditional Italian comedy with contemporary satire. It feels very timely given the recent report that almost a third of Gen Z men believe that a wife should obey her husband. Apparently there are many Victors (and many Lunes) out there! Indeed, there are also a great many Pierrots. Although this innocent fool is unfailingly kind to Lune, helping her out of her abusive relationship by showing her a compassion to which she is no longer accustomed, he too is a bad match. Pierrot (the archetypal “nice guy”) is born to chase the object of his affections, to suffer unrequited love, and so when Lune eventually confesses her feelings for him, he necessarily loses interest. The sad clown is not meant to get what he wants! Sound familiar? I’m sure it will to some. Again, Masini adapts Commedia dell’arte to mirror the romantic concerns of the present. The Travelling Players are a talented bunch and their revival of this older form is remarkably effective, especially with regards to physical comedy. Every actor in the company is clearly well versed in slapstick. Pantalone and Arlecchino, in particular, were hilarious throughout. It was as if they’d been lifted straight out of that fast-paced, nonsensical Italian cartoon, La Linea, and brought to life onstage. Nevertheless, in spite of this production’s many successes, some elements still felt a little unfinished: the subplots could benefit from being fleshed out slightly and better integrated into the whole, while the ending arguably requires a sharper comic edge to match the energy of earlier scenes. Even so, Masini has worked wonders with what many would consider an out-of-date form, reminding us that Commedia dell’arte can be made relevant to any and every century, including our own. Stock characters never die!
