The Romantic Edmond Rostand

There’s something highly appropriate about Edmond Rostand (1868-1918), having been born of an April Fool’s Day, given the holiday’s history in his native country and Rostand’s revival of the kind of Romanticism we associate with Victor Hugo.

Rostand has always seemed a bit of a unicorn, galloping against the prevailing traffic in the time of Antoine, Ibsen, Chekhov, Shaw, et al. One is apt to forget that during the same era, pantomime throve, and opera, and Shakespeare, as well as the Symbolist plays of Maeterlinck, and Barrie’s Peter Pan. Rostand’s spirit is not unlike that of Tennyson’s or even Wilde’s. The son of a poet, Rostand wrote his plays in verse, and drew from mythology and history for his themes.

Four of Rostand’s works interest us especially:

Les Romanesques (The Romantics, 1894) — chiefly interesting today because it was adapted by Tom Jones into the American musical The Fantasticks. New York’s off-Broadway production of The Fantasticks ran for 42 years (1960-2002), making it the world’s longest running musical. As I wrote in that earlier post, it was one of the first plays I ever appeared in, and it’s still one of my favorite musicals.

Cyrano de Bergerac (1897) — one of the most popular, successful, and oft-produced theatrical works of modern times. I won’t insult you by recounting its premise or plot, but I will relate the surprising news that Cyrano was a real guy! The highly literary and big-beaked nobleman lived from 1619 to 1655. There have been so many Cyranos over the past century-plus you could fill a book, so I’ll just restrict myself to notable ones.

My earliest exposure to the character came through Jose Ferrer’s screen interpretation, I think. Either that or the Brady Bunch episode! I’ve seen it live on stage once, in the West End production at the Royal Haymarket starring Robert Lindsay in 1992 — and how I wept! It was this production that made me realize the potential power of mixing comedy and tragedy in the right proportions. Ostensibly one gets that from Chaplin. But this one really hit me in the gut for some reason. It was a great performance.

Hampden’s Cyrano in action. From Mari Lyn Henry Collection

Cyrano was originally played by the great stage clown Coquelin. Richard Mansfield was America’s first Cyrano, although it quickly came to be associated with Walter Hampden, who played it on Broadway at least a half dozen times (if you are ever fortunate enough to visit The Players Club you will find a wonderful portrait of him in the character). Ralph Richardson, Derek Jacobi, Christopher Plummer, Richard Chamberlain, and Kevin Kline have all played the part on stage. Victor Herbert and Walter Damrosch each adapted it into operas. Abel Gance made a film of it, one of his last, in 1964. Steve Martin adapted it into the rather disappointing Roxanne in 1987. Gerard Depardieu had an international hit with it in 1990. And more recently, the part was tweaked for Peter Dinklage for a 2021 film, a masterstroke of genius, I think.

L’Aiglon (The Eaglet, 1900) — this biographical play about Napoleon II is notable for its lead character being played by women as a so-called breeches, or male drag role. It was Sarah Bernhardt in the original Paris production. Maude Adams played it on Broadway.

Chantecler (Rooster, 1910) — the characters in this one are all barnyard animals! It has never been successful on stage probably due to the bizarreness of the experience. I picture something that looks like Mack Swain’s hallucination in Chaplin’s The Gold Rush, or vaudeville’s animal impersonators like Alfred Latell, Fred Woodward, or George Ali. At one time, Walt Disney was developing it for a potential feature; he finally shelved it in favor of The Sword and the Stone. It was finally adapted into an animated movie by other producers as Rock-a-Doodle (1991), with the title character as a pompadoured cock modeled on Elvis Presley, featuring the voices of Glen Campbell, Christopher Plummer, Phil Harris (his final film role), Charles Nelson Reilly, Sorrell Booke, Sandy Duncan, and the great Eddie Deezen.

I was about to wish you a Happy April Fool’s Day, but then you’d think this whole post was a fake-a-roo, so I’ll just wish you a happy Edmond Rostand’s birthday, which is every bit as deserving of celebration.