Hotel Paradiso

by Georges Feydeau, Maurice Desvallieres, Peter Glenville (Translator)

Farce comedy Georges Feydeau and Maurice Desvallieres, Translation by Peter Glenville 13 male, 8 female, extras Interior Sets This mad French bedroom frolic finds an assortment of refined people stealing through the halls and rooms of a cheap hotel comically intent on assignations. "One of the funniest comedies since the silent movies." N.Y. Daily News. "Mr. Glenville's conception of this rumpus is riotous ... bold, reckless and funny." N.Y. Times.

Genres: Plays, France

134 pages, Paperback

First published January 1, 1957

About the author

Fils d'un romancier, il est le maître du Baudeville.Il porte ce genre mineur à la perfection avec une grande maîtrise technique .

Reviews

[Charlie Lee · Rating 5 out of 5]

Forget A Flea in Her Ear, this is a far funnier farce. The twists and turns are much more satisfying and the ridiculousness of some of the characters let's us know we're in pure farce land. Unlike many of his other farces, Feydeau seems to embrace the absurd for his extreme characters rather than offensive national stereotypes.

This review is based on the translation of l'hotel de libre echange called Heart's Desire Hotel.

[Matt Astin · Rating 4 out of 5]

Fantastic farce. Had a smile on my face throughout the script.

[Adam McPhee · Rating 3 out of 5]

Not as funny as Feydeau's Dindon but still a great farce. I learned about Feydeau from a title card in an episode of Frasier, of all places, and you can see how they're part of the same tradition. Will read more of his plays, eventually.

Great biographical note: Feydeau’s father, Ernest Feydeau, was a stockbroker and novelist, a friend of Baudelaire, Flaubert and the Goncourt brothers – who mocked him in their Journals for an interest in ancient Egypt so passionate that it was ‘a form of adultery with him’. .... Feydeau’s public success was offset by private misery. He spent each afternoon writing or directing, each evening at the show and then at Maxim’s (where he had a table permanently reserved); he returned home at three or four in the morning, and began again at noon the next day. His wife shared none of his interests, and eventually asked him to leave. He gambled on the stock exchange, and lost not only the fortune his plays earned but also his valuable art collection. In 1909 he moved to a suite in the Hôtel Terminus (near the Gare St Lazare), and spent ten years there, dividing his time between the theatre, Maxim’s and a succession of whores, from one of whom he contracted syphilis. He stopped writing in 1916; in 1919 he announced that he was Napoleon III, and was committed to an asylum; he died in 1921.