At the same time, the French dramatist's vision of love's victory, far from being all pink ribbons and bows, has some decidedly sharp edges with which to be reckoned.

The author of several novels and more than 30 romantic comedies, Marivaux continues to be popular in France, where he is second only to Moliere in the number of performances at the prestigious Comedie Francaise. Recently, with the help of savvy adapter/translaters such as Cal Shakes' Lillian Groag (who also directs this production), his theatrical works have become much more accessible for American audiences; Berkeley Rep presented a memorable "Triumph" in 1994 and other previously little known comedies have begun to surface in new translations around the country.

In theme and style, the play reflects the era
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in which its author lived. Sybaritic Louis XV occupied the French throne, amusing (or offending) the public with his countless affairs and taste for the good life. Intellectuals engaged in a lively late Enlightenment debate about the comparative value of reason and emotion, while artists involved in theater tried to sort out the relative merits of single-author, printed scripts and semi-improvised approaches that often incorporated elements of commedia dell'arte imported from Italy. All of these influences are clearly visible in "Triumph," making it, like the English Restoration Comedy that flowered during the same period, a rich source of insights into the country's social order.

Marivaux's plot, a mix of pure farce and romantic comedy, requires more than the usual suspension of disbelief.

After learning that her uncle usurped the throne she later inherited, Princess Leonide of Sparta (portrayed with remarkable intensity by Bay Area favorite Stacy Ross), accompanied by lady-in-waiting Corine (the ever-reliable Catherine Castellanos), arrives at an unnamed country location looking for Prince Agis (an ingratiatingly naive Jud Williford), who is being sheltered from his supposed enemies by a misogynist philosopher named Hermocrates (Dan Hiatt) and his spinster sister Leontine (Domenique Lozano).

Also on hand are the couple's irascible old caretaker, Dimas (Ron Campbell), and a sprightly Arlecchino (Danny Schie), a commedia character who suddenly appears as if out of nowhere.

This is where the fun begins. Leonide's mission is to surrender her office to Agis, Sparta's rightful sovereign. In order to avoid raising alarm because of her ties to the ruling clique, she and Corine dress in men's clothing and assume fictitious names.

Everything is going smoothly until she glimpses Prince Agis in the forest and - wouldn't you know it? - immediately falls in love. Now, the mission becomes transferring authority AND wooing a future husband. But, how can she do this while hiding her identity from the Prince's circle of protectors (not to mention Agis himself)? Never fear - our ever-resourceful Princess is fully up to the task.

Even as her disguise begins to crumble, she unerringly finds her adversaries' weak spot. For Dimas and Arlecchino, it's a pouch of gold coins. For Hemocrates, who has renounced love in favor of a life of philosophical contemplation, it's the arousal of carnal desire when she turns on her female charms. For sister Leontine (who remains convinced to the very end that she's dealing with a handsome young man who is devoted to her despite their difference in age), it's to encourage her vanity. For the cautious Agis, it's to slowly break through his defenses and earn his trust.

While such stratagems eventually lead to Leonide's "triumph of love," they involve some morally questionable behavior and leave a pair of broken hearts behind, which is why the play has a bittersweet flavor. Nevertheless, Cal Shakes' production, adroitly directed by Groag, overcomes these qualms with fine acting by the entire ensemble and solid design work, especially by Russell Champa (lighting), Raquel Barreto (costumes) and Jeff Mockus (sound).

My single serious reservation has to do with length. At least 15 minutes of the four-hour running time could be eliminated by cutting back on schtick - much of it intended to replicate commedia's trademark "lazzi" - that is extraneous to the plot. Particular offenders are running gags like the naked fountain cherub that has to be encouraged to spout water through his you-know-what, the repeated mispronunciations of "Aspidistra" (Leonide's made-up nickname) and Shie's occasionally overly cute antics as Arlecchino.

Even in midsummer it can get pretty chilly in the Orinda outback, where the Bruns Memorial Amphitheater is located. A quarter hour saved might be much appreciated.