Seduction upon seduction, once scandalous, now unsatisfying

We all love a good scandal, preferably if we're not involved, and maybe even if we are. Arthur Schnitzler wrote the play

La Ronde

, his brazen catalog of 10 seductions, in Germany 110 years ago - and talk about scandal. . . .

First, he gave the script only to pals, a move that was the plain brown wrapper of its time. The play was later published, and scandalized authorities who censored it in Vienna. It was republished in Germany, and finally produced in 1921 - almost a quarter of a century after Schnitzler wrote it. The playwright was then haled into court for obscenity, anti-Semitic riots broke out (Schnitzler was Jewish), and La Ronde had turned into a full-blown theatrical scandal.

I thought about all this on opening night Wednesday as La Ronde, in an uneven production by Lantern Theater in Center City, failed to scandalize anyone. My guess is that when the play was first published, the then-saucy nature of the material was what caused the social explosion, and certainly not what the play was attempting to assert.

No matter how you dissect La Ronde, whatever it says about seduction, sex - or, in the few instances it comes up, love - is secondary to its importance for simply taking on the subjects. It's obvious that Schnitzler was brave. But his play is intellectually muddy; you slog through 10 seductions and their immediate aftermaths, and you have no take on why. You haven't garnered an insight, from then or from now. La Ronde, for all its history, including two film versions, is about as provocative as a respected museum piece.

Lantern's production of the play is a translation by the company's artistic director, Charles McMahon, who also directed it. The dialogue seems natural enough, salted with sweet nothings in the style of the day. One partner almost always seeks information about the other's former lovers before the seduction, not unlike today, but in La Ronde the questions come across like indictments. And the lovers are inexplicably obsessed with a single question: Have you ever loved anyone as much as me?

There's about an hour's worth of satisfying theater in the play's two hours and 30 minutes, and a distracting surfeit of drawn-out costume changes between each seduction, all done on-stage. (The show is played in the round, or more precisely, in the rectangle.) If the on-stage dressing is meaningful, I didn't catch the meaning, except that Millie Hiibel's handsome costumes take a while to get into - and a very short time to get out of.

The two versatile actors who play all the roles - the crisp-looking Ben Dibble and lissome Sarah Sanford - impressively molt from one character to the next. They work nicely, often charmingly, together; even so, the stilted nature of the play keeps their passion from igniting, and prevents them from fully plumbing the scattered laugh lines.

Dibble, who won the Barrymores' emerging artist award last year, is currently emerging from every stitch of clothing in Act 2, as is Sanford. The 1890s patina that covers the entire play also pumps an antiseptic quality into the nude scene.

It can be fun to watch Dibble and Sanford interact, as an exercise in surveying very good acting. But they can't be expected to seduce the audience as well as each other - not with La Ronde's surely unintentional lesson, which becomes clearer as the laundry list of carryings-on progresses: You've seen one seduction, you've seen 'em all.

By Arthur Schnitzler, translated from the German and directed by Charles McMahon. Scenery by Meghan Jones, costumes by Millie Hiibel, lighting by Janet Embree, sound by Nick Rye. Presented by Lantern Theater Company.

The cast: Ben Dibble (all male roles), Sarah Sanford (all female roles).

Playing at St. Stephen's Theater, 10th and Ludlow Streets, through Feb. 25. Tickets: $15-$30. Information: 215-829-9002 or www.lanterntheater.org.

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