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Les Liaisons Dangereuses': a play-by-play seduction manual

The Game: an undeniably timeless theme of love _ or not-quite-love _ and conquest. There are rules. There are winners and losers. But best of all, there is intoxication and the thrill of the hunt.

With a deck of cards continually on hand, the cast of Pen, Paint, & Pretzels' Les Liaisons Dangereuses, under the direction of senior Charles Semine, showed that even the most masterful dealers can sometimes fall victim to The Game. The production played to audiences last Thursday, Friday, and Saturday nights in the Balch Area Theater.

The stage was set for Paris at the end of the 18th century, when girls wore flouncing dresses, men had jackets that swooped in great tails and women pranced about in satin underwear and... high heels?? Well, at least in this production they did.

Aside from pleather pants and a forgotten eyebrow piercing left in for the first scene, the show's costumes lent an authentic touch to the period piece, right down to the buckles on actors' shoes. At times, these costumes _ particularly in the bedroom scenes _ were so distracting that audience members were hard put to follow some of the script's more in-depth witticisms and analogies of The Game.

But if words like "dilatoriness" and "lugubrious" passed by theatergoers, simple set designs helped to fill in the blanks.

This show was about sex, plain and simple. You could read it in the heavy backdrop of crimson, the loveseats, the dim candlelight and the satin sheets on the beds _ the three beds visited within the first act by the charming, sexual prowler Vicomte de Valmont.

But, as if these details and Valmont's many amorous conquests were not enough to highlight the show's overriding theme, the evil Marquise de Merteuil _ Valmont's partner in The Game _ hammered the point home with groping hands, pursed lips and frank discussions of sex.

"Only flirt with those you tend to refuse," she lectured. "Then you acquire a reputation for invincibility whilst slipping safely away with the lover of your choice."

In explaining The Game, she said that the rules for girls included never writing letters but getting men to write them, always make men think they're they only one, and "win or die."

"When I want a man, I have him," she explained.

Valmont counters with his fair share of outspokenness.

Hidden in metaphors _ and-not-so-discrete rubbing and teasing _ the two talk of growing appetites, musical harmonies and card games, using witty commentary to downplay the blatant sexuality.

Early in the play, the duo is paired up in a battle of naughty comebacks, typical of the script's overall charming vulgarity.

"The Comtesse has promised me extensive use of her gardens," Valmont says. "It seems her husband's fingers are not as green as they once were."

"Maybe not," Merteuil responds without missing a beat. "But from what I hear, all his friends are gardeners."

A lively audience helped enhance this playful atmosphere, and theatergoers were quite surprised by the unexpected drama.

"Scandalous," was how freshman Jonathon Gais described the first act. But it was also wonderfully entertaining, he said.

The chemistry on stage was electric.

Valmont and Merteuil, played by Tufts juniors Graham Outerbridge and Lauren D'Avella, were a perfectly devious pair of aces. It was difficult to hate bad guys that were just so good _ even as they went about manipulating the innocent for their own entertainment.

Their toys included the virginal C?©cile Volanges, beautiful Mme de Tourvel, playful ?‰milie, and poor, bumbling Danceny _ played, by freshman Jessica Fisch, junior Nicole Frattaroli, freshman Livia Stefanini, and sophomore Seth Pitman, respectively.

The cast was rounded out by senior Emily Jerez as the prudish Mme de Volanges, freshman Telly Kousakis as the whispering butler Major-Domo, sophomore Kevin Miller as the money-hungry manservant Azolan, and senior Melissa Holman as the wise Aunt Rosemonde.

Better choices for the parts could not have been made. "The acting is really strong," audience member Barry Weiss said during intermission. "I think it's unconventional and sophisticated for a college play."

The second act just got better.

With passion and betrayal, lust and despair, the actors turned the Balch Arena's small stage into a soap opera drama worthy of the big screen _ with a running time of a full-length film at over three hours.

Complete with adultery, domestic violence, and staged death, the second act kept viewers on the edges of their seats. The movie Cruel Intentions was based on this play _ but it could have taken a few tips from Liaison's action last weekend.

Frattaroli's Tourvel was so sweetly innocent that Valmont finally began to be more evil than charming in the scene where he threw her to the floor, in an attempt to break the feelings of love he did not know how to deal with.

"It's beyond my control," he kept unfeelingly repeating.

Egged on by Merteuil, Valmont rejected the very woman who had made him happy, and the show reached its chilling climax.

From there, the end came and went in a too-fast blur of sword fighting, heartbreak, death, and guillotine sound effects _ and an eerily cheerful song playing as the lights went out.

The audience understood that wrongs would eventually be righted, players would have their endings, and The Game had not been won.