FOOD COMA!!!!!

Ivo Van Hove, why do you hate playwrights so much? Why do you hate Americans so much? And why do you hate actors? The Belgian director is at NYTW once again, making aping idiots of us all, with the unlikely The Misanthrope -- yes Moliere's. Much fuss has been made about Van Hove, who undoubtedly has a unique vision and great aesthetics. The designs of his shows are what are most notable -- always a stark, bold, clean canvas upon which he smears the filth of humanity. In this case, food. The original play is about Alceste, an all-or-nothing kind of guy, morally speaking. He can't accept anything less than the honest-to-God brutal truth, and abhors the convention of manners and politeness -- and yet he is in love with the most superficial socialite around. About 20 minutes into the piece, Alceste rudely interrupts his acquaintances' lunch spread from the deli by laying his body on top of the picnic. He then proceeds to drench himself in chocolate syrup, catsup, jam and anything else he can get his hands on, in a gesture meant to demonstrate in graphic terms the true disgusting animal face of mankind. It certainly effective in invoking revulsion, especially with the stench of all that food permeating the theater (later, with the flinging of sour cream and tomato sauce pretty much covers all the bases in terms of olfactory overload). Unfortunately this big mess does little to elucidate the play. Grossly miscast and with no attempt to actualize the characters the way Moliere wrote them, Van Hove's intention weighs heavily atop the actors like an old stinky rag and the dramatic structure splinters with each passing moment, despite the intricate and innovative video work and heated performances.