As audience members slowly filed into the Casino du Liban theater, trumpet, flute, clarinet, and cello players tuned their instruments haphazardly. The stage of provided an admirable setting, with borders of sapphire blue and gold and a replica of a moon-sized red rose plastered on the upper right-hand side.
Elegantly dressed audience members snapped photos of the stage design with their smartphones, the light of their screens glaring annoyingly in the dim room. Once the PA system announced that all electronic devices and all cameras were prohibited, however, the atmosphere altered.
Silence fell. As the orchestra struck up the notes of “The Enchantress,” the evening’s opening number, the light of mobile phones gradually flickered out.
For its thousands of Lebanese spectators, “Beauty and the Beast,” the Broadway musical being staged at Casino du Liban by Clapping Hands Productions, was a dazzling experience.
The story of the Disney version of this story is, by now, known by many. An arrogant young prince and his castle’s servants fall under the spell of a wicked enchantress, who transforms him into the hideous Beast. The only thing that will free him is learning to love and to be loved in return.
Enter Belle, a spirited, headstrong village girl to sets off to confront the Beast after he imprisons her father Maurice. With the help of his enchanted servants – Lumiere, Cogsworth, Mrs. Potts, Madame de la Grande Bouche and Babette – Belle begins to draw the cold-hearted Beast out of his isolation.
The Casino’s staging of the Disney story is marked by magic and magnificence. The story was given a human face and voice by songs not in the animated feature, layers of humor and the theatricality of the performers.
In the tune “No Matter What,” for instance, Belle explores loneliness, her father’s awkward and misunderstood character and the adventure and opportunity she seeks beyond “provincial life.” Belle’s history is colored with stories of her mother, which was also absent from the Disney movie.
This sort of departure from the source film is not without its downside. In his onstage version, Maurice seems dismally over-eccentric. It’s not entirely convincing that the man was merely an eager inventor of a contraption. His want of excitement at having got his device (an early automobile) to work properly was overkill.
The clear crowd-pleaser of this staging of the show was definitely Gaston, everyone’s favorite villain. Perhaps it was the muscle-clad body suit he donned, or the pompous, chauvinistic demeanor he presented so charmingly that made his character amusing.
Where the Disney cartoon depicted the condescending, patriarchal hunter as simply evil, it was the performer’s obvious, self-indulging smirk (not concealed by a mask) that appealed to the Casino’s audience.
“He was attractive because his tone and acting style gave a reflection of exactly who he was,” one audience member opined after the show. “He knew the physical influence he had and didn’t hide it. That’s usually a quality that is, unfortunately, effective in achieving an end.”
After Belle rejects him, Gaston repairs to the pub, where he’s consoled by compliments and praise from the villagers – most notably the desperate and obsessive girls who swooned at his slightest touch. It was a particularly popular moment during the performance.
The mingling of choreography with effect of iron beer steins clinking in time to the toe-tapping tune “Gaston” made for unparalleled entertainment. “Be Our Guest,” belted out in duo by Lumiere and Cogsworth during Belle’s first night as a prisoner, was a vibrant and colorful diversion from the disappointing later sequence in the library.
Particularly thrilling was a spirited dance by normally inanimate kitchenware and utensils – circular plates, silverware (silver painted girls with forked, dipped, or pointed headdresses), and napkins attired in bright fluttering off-white dresses.
One dilemma was posed by the authenticity and substance of the Beast himself. While the quintet of Lumiere, Cogsworth, Mrs. Potts, Madame de la Grande Bouche and Babette offered the necessary dynamic to train him to be a gentleman, the Beast’s acting was, if anything, exaggerated.
He was less than impressive, regardless how kind and gentle he became and, once he transformed back into Prince Adam, it was difficult to take his change of heart seriously. While quietly chilling, the Beast’s aggression and fear – expressed as a roar of angry despair that echoed through the hall – was probably his strongest quality.
The Beast’s tendency to abandon all pretense and break the personal boundaries separating him and the leading lady reinforced his monstrous aspect. His song “If I Can’t Love Her” reflected his self-loathing at his inability to love Belle and be loved in return.
Soulful as the song is, it failed to convince the house that the Beast had discovered the secret to being human again and that his compassionate nature was blooming forth. The effect was one of strangled disengagement from reality.
“Beauty and the Beast” promises to be a spectacle and a spectacle is what it is.
The hand-held mirror that glows with the images it projects speaks volumes about what a lonely, despondent, beautiful disaster a person can be when no one else is around.
As these witty characters are transformed back into their human forms at the end of the play, it suggests that beauty is best defined not by muscles or jewels, but by the strength accompanying the knowledge that no one is perfect.
“Beauty and the Beast” is up at the Casino du Liban theater through Nov. 8 at 3:30 p.m. (Saturday and Sunday only) and 8:30 p.m.
