Un pour tous, tous pour rien

As a French woman raised on the works of Dumas père, I walked into Les Trois Dumas at Redhouse Arts Center with certain expectations. I wanted to see the history of the iconic Dumas family. Instead, I encountered a historical desert filled with clichés, drama and historical inaccuracies that felt more like revisionist history than realism.

Donovan Stanfield’s performance as General Thomas Dumas was undoubtedly the highlight of the production. He embodied dignity and strength in a play where historical accuracy was nonexistent. His performance stood tall like a soldier on guard in a production where others drowned in melodrama. His presence on stage was commanding, creating a rare moment when a character felt as substantial as the historical figure they were meant to portray.

Marcus Naylor, as Alexandre Dumas père, let me down. Dumas père was a literary giant, a charismatic and adventurous man who captured the hearts of millions. However, in this play, Naylor’s depiction of him as a stumbling, slurring drunk felt nothing like the larger-than-life figure we know him to be. Alexandre Dumas père was a man of wit, charm, and vigor—not a bumbling fool.

Adrian Beck, as Alexandre Dumas fils, attempted to convey emotional depth, aiming to depict a son caught between love and frustration for his father. However, instead of a nuanced portrayal, we were presented with a spectacle of exaggerated angst, filled with tantrums and shouting.

One of the most disappointing aspects was how the play handled the father-son relationship between Dumas père and Dumas fils. Their bond was built on love, respect and admiration. The famous quote from Dumas fils—when asked whose seat he was replacing at the French Academy, he said, “À mon père”—speaks volumes about the depth of that connection. Yet, the play turns this beautiful relationship into a manufactured tragedy, adding unnecessary conflict that wasn’t there in reality.

Courtesy of Amelia Beamish

Chelsea Colton performs as Ida Ferrier in Redhouse Arts Center’s production of Les Trois Dumas.

Speaking of historical figures, let’s address George Sand and Victor Hugo—both vital to French literary history and entirely misrepresented here. George Sand, for example, was never head of the Comédie-Française, as the play suggests. And as for Victor Hugo, he never met George Sand. It’s one thing to take liberties for creative storytelling, but distorting the essence of well-documented figures seems to cross a line.

Then there’s the small stuff piled up, like the costumes falling apart at the seams, with buttons popping off during the performance. And don’t even get me started on the accents. The final straw was the governor, who made a five-minute appearance with an accent so over-the-top it felt like I was watching a caricature rather than a character. The constant mockery of French accents by American actors who often can’t speak French is incredibly frustrating.

Perhaps even more frustrating is how American productions often use foreign histories to avoid dealing with their own. They turn to ours or others when they’re too afraid to confront their complex past. The play uses the Dumas family as a backdrop for some larger drama, but this isn’t just about French history—it’s a pattern of using history to avoid addressing uncomfortable truths in their own backyard.

If anything saved this play, it was the lighting and set design. The way the light moved across the stage added depth and drama that almost compensated for the lack of historical depth. The set, too, worked in harmony with the lighting to create a visually engaging experience, even if the storytelling itself was lacking.

The Dumas family’s story is complex and layered, and turning it into a melodramatic spectacle was a missed opportunity to share something meaningful. Les Trois Dumas might entertain those unfamiliar with French history, but this play is a misstep for those who care about historical accuracy. Theater is a space for fiction, but it’s also a space for knowledge. And not everything should be made up, especially when telling stories about race, family, and complex histories.

As a French woman who grew up with the works of Dumas, Hugo, and Sand, watching their twisted and misrepresented stories was more than disappointing. History deserves more, and so does theater.

“Le théâtre, c’est la vie, mais la vie ordinaire, telle qu’elle devrait être.” – Alexandre Dumas, père