In Intiman's Adaptation of The Scarlet Letter, the 'A' is for Angry

Did you successfully make it through junior high? Then you've probably read Nathaniel Hawthorne's The Scarlet Letter. A pinnacle of the Romantic period and a scathing indictment of the all-up-in-your-business mentality of the worst impulses in American law-making, it's an oft-referenced classic frequently adapted for stage and screen. A new adaptation of the play (by Naomi Iizuka) opened at Intiman Theatre in October.

The story is about being besotted with love to the point of self-ruin. It's about pride and owning what may come from your decisions and about staying true to your convictions. That's not what Intiman's adaptation is about. This version is about being held accountable for a sin you didn't commit and being really, really angry at your parents.

Pearl (Izabel Mar, Renata Friedman) is an outcast in town, owing to the extraordinary authoritarianism of the townsfolk and their rigid social norms. She's bullied and abused by her classmates, gossiped about and lied to and nearly removed from her mother by the town leaders. She's admittedly a symbol of punishment to her mother. She caught a raw deal - a bunch of Pilgrim busy-bodies took it upon themselves to police the fun out of everything to point of extreme punitive legislation. All because of something her mom did - or didn't - do.

So where the original story often has the always-burning undercurrent of the naughty, this adaptation doesn't get to have that. It's not Hester's pride on display, but Pearl's (justified) anger at being constantly accused of being the devil's spawn. So she's kind of a brat. Wouldn't you be? If Hester (Zabryna Guevara) and Dimmesdale (Frank Boyd) seem shallow and cowardly, it's because that's how it seems when you're young and you hate your parents. Puberty has no subtly of understanding.

The play reads like revisiting a journal, shifting between the past and present, laying the foundation of understanding for a series of monologues from the adult Pearl, whose spiteful bitterness is a thing to behold. It's an interesting take on the story, one that a generation that's driven by the ethos of "blaming it on your parents and never letting go" should consider checking out. We would also like to give a major round of applause to the costume department and the accompanying violinist.

It's no secret that the Intiman is going through some sad times, and it is too bad that this play isn't a runaway success a la Ruined. But Intiman has vision along with the support of the community, and needs to come out fighting.

Intiman will soon go into full-on Black Nativity mode for the holidays, so there isn't much time left to see The Scarlet Letter. Go get some.

Through December 5th // Intiman Theatre, 201 Mercer Street // $25 - $65, tickets here