Although it was written more than a hundred years ago, Rostand’s Cyrano de Bergerac is far from forgotten. A new production seems to come along every few years, either in translation or, as at the Park Theatre, in an adaptation called simply Cyrano here and originally seen in Melbourne. Author Virginia Gay, who also plays the title role, has taken the central three-way relationship in the play and focussed on that, with the support of a chorus of speakers.

As the audience arrive, they are greeted by the cast, although those in the Circle may not feel quite so involved in the process. As in the original, Cyrano is in love with Roxanne, who is in love with Christian; and Cyrano writes love letters to Roxanne, pretending to be Christian (here named Yan), claiming that “I could make you perfect, my words and your body.” The essential difference in this modern dress adaptation is the gender of Cyrano, making it a different gender grouping. Gender-switched Cyranos have been seen before but this short version (90 minutes with no interval) benefits from the conceit of having a chorus to comment on the action.

As Cyrano, Virginia Gay is a magnetic performer who makes contact with all parts of the tricky Park Theatre auditorium. She is entirely believable in her infatuation with Roxanne, who is given a lively and engaging persona by Jessica Whitehurst. Gay writes well for both of these characters, and we empathise and believe in them throughout.

As the third member of the central trio, Joseph Evans as Yan is just as impressive as the other two central performers but his role is less convincingly written. Where Cyrano and Roxanne seem like real people, Yan seems to function more as a representative of his gender and of male foibles; but maybe that was the intention. This allows for some entertaining exchanges, however: “You have the body of a Greek god.” “I’m from Manchester.”

The chorus, known only as 1, 2 and 3, are nicely differentiated and add much to the play, especially in their metatheatrical discussions of how each actor should play their part, sometimes quite dismissively, “She’s Australian, she doesn’t know the rules.” Tessa Wong is an authoritative voice, able to stand back and comment on what is happening, while David Tarkenter is much more sparky and quick to respond. Balancing these two is Tanvi Virmani, who gives a sympathetic portrayal of a younger viewpoint.

Clare Watson’s production makes good use of the space, and the set by Amanda Stoodley (piano, rostra, mirror flats and a spiral staircase) always reminds us that we are watching a theatrical production. Whilst the use of party hats and streamers (at least on press night) was overdone, the final image of the now matched Roxanne and Cyrano in a sparkling dying light was highly effective.

“So what is this, a romantic comedy?” to quote from the play. The answer in this text is that it’s a metaphor (according to Cyrano) or “It’s my life” according to Roxanne. All the expected tropes are here as well: mention (and dismissal) of the size of Cyrano’s nose, a reference to panache and even a quick burst of Roxanne, which Chorus 3 has been trying to sing since the beginning.

Cyrano shows once again the essential adaptability and resilience of this text (despite Roxanne’s suggestion that “there’s no fixing this creaky old plot”) and offers an enjoyable take on a familiar story, making an intelligent and thought-provoking alternative to more lightweight entertainment at this time of year.

**** Four stars

Reviewed by: Chris Abbott

Cyrano plays at London’s Park Theatre until 11 January 2025, with further info here.