Deborah Mulhall’s adaptation of Dangerous Liaisons, drawn directly from the original 1782 novel by Pierre Choderlos de Laclos, promises a return to this famously wicked tale of seduction and revenge. There’s no doubt this is a bold and stylistically daring reinterpretation, one that embraces risk in pursuit of something new. What unfolds is a production caught between worlds—a reverie of corsets, avant-garde choreography, and fragmented moods. Ambitious in scope, but tempered by uneven execution.

This version offers little to distinguish itself from Christopher Hampton’s adaptation, the 1988 film, or even Cruel Intentions. An additional scene at the end of Act 2 feels superfluous—more like an afterthought than a meaningful expansion. So while the nightclub, boudoir aesthetic and bold flourishes are innovative, the core dynamics and plot beats remain familiar.

The pacing throughout this production often felt intense and somewhat disjointed, leaving little room for the actors to breathe or savour the wit and emotional depth the text demands. Unlike the classical adaptations that use the measured rhythms, tension and social constraints of pre-revolutionary French aristocracy to their advantage, this setting felt more like one long hedonistic party.  

In Act 2, the pace eased, giving both characters and audience crucial room to reflect, though it also tipped into near-Shakespearean melodrama. The cast brought energy to the stage, but many struggled to find the subtlety and nuance crucial to capturing the intricate power plays and psychological complexity at the heart of the story. Much of the acting relied on projecting volume over feeling, which, while clearly an attempt to convey passion, didn’t authentically translate. More crucially, the razor-edged wordplay and stinging irony that give Dangerous Liaisons its enduring edge are largely absent.

Melissa Jones’s Marquise de Merteuil was sharp and commanding, yet her performance leaned more toward surface-level sarcasm than the deep, ruthless calculation the role demands. Her chilling self-mythology as a “virtuoso of deceit”—which offers a rare glimpse into the pain, intellect, and survival instinct driving her cruelty, was a missed moment of depth and lacked insight.

Chad Traupmann brought a suave, oily rockstar energy to Valmont, but the performance could have benefited from greater emotional texture to fully capture the character’s manipulative intricacy— a man who cloaks cruelty in charm and whose power lies in his ability to blur sincerity with strategy. Jones and Traupmann’s scenes together showed potential but didn’t build the chemistry and tension needed to bring their psychological sparring to life.

Megan Elizabeth Kennedy infused the pious Madame Tourvel with stoic sincerity, suggesting the character’s emotional depth. Yet her love story with Valmont never quite ignited, leaving Tourvel’s inner conflict torn between resistance and surrender, feeling hurried and insufficiently explored.

Bronte Price’s Cecile had moments of youthful brightness and humorous naivety. Her central monologue, expressing shame and powerlessness after being seduced, was upstaged by the distracting action and noise of a stylised orgy, completely undermining its emotional impact. This production’s sensuality leaned toward bump-and-grind, missing the slow-burn allure and psychological seduction that make the power plays dangerously compelling.

The 80’s nightclub vibe-meets-palace setting didn’t quite convey the opulence and repression that make the characters’ behaviour so transgressive and shocking. 

Set Designer Patrick Kennedy frames the action with deep red curtains, a chessboard-like floor that cleverly symbolizes calculated moves, and a grand four-poster bed. These suggestive touches hint at decadence and the suffocating elegance of ancien-régime France.

The interplay of lighting, sound, and movement proved the most compelling aspect in conveying the adaptation’s atmosphere and intent. Lighting Designer Holly Nesbitt’s crisp cues and Sound Designer Erica Lovell’s bold mix of court music and pulsing nightclub beats created snappy transitions and rhythmic momentum. Voguing, acrobatics, and choreographed scene shifts added visual flair, while moments of shadow play and stylised silhouettes added whimsy and intrigue. 

What makes Dangerous Liaisons enduring is the emotional undercurrent beneath dialogue— the denial, the unvoiced desires and the tragic gulf between expression and truth. We want to see the interplay of irony in what the characters are not saying. While this production hinted at such complexity, it ultimately left it unrealised. Between the words, within that ache of restraint, is where Dangerous Liaisons’ most devastating power resides.

see https://newtheatre.org.au/dangerous-liaisons/ for details and ticketing.

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