A seduction built on illusion — and the cost of believing it.
M. Butterfly at San Francisco Playhouse begins with elegance and ends somewhere far more exposed.
A French diplomat in Beijing meets a Chinese opera singer of striking poise. The early encounters feel refined, almost ceremonial. Words are measured. Gestures restrained. Desire moves politely at first.
Then something deeper takes hold.
What unfolds becomes a meditation on longing — on the stories we construct about who we are and how powerfully we want them confirmed.
Love, illusion, politics, self-mythology — the play absorbs all of it and reshapes it for the stage.
Illusion doesn’t announce itself. It arrives dressed as destiny.
Historical Context: The Real Case Behind The Play
The drama draws from the real-life relationship between French diplomat Bernard Boursicot and Beijing opera performer Shi Pei Pu.
Their decades-long affair and later espionage trial revealed layers of deception, belief, and identity performance that stunned international observers.
Fascinating dynamic
Dean Linnard portrays Rene Gallimard with finely calibrated restraint. His transformation happens gradually. Shoulders square. Confidence grows. The character’s romantic self-image expands with each encounter. Linnard allows us to see a man quietly rehearsing his own importance.
Opposite him, Edric Young gives Song Liling a composed, watchful elegance. The performance feels deliberate and controlled without ever feeling distant. A glance lingers just long enough. A phrase lands softly, then settles. Young sustains a layered presence — alluring, intelligent, and fully aware — that keeps tension alive even in stillness.
Their dynamic anchors the evening.
Desire shapes perception — and perception reshapes truth.
Mesmerizing experience
Directed by Bridgette Loriaux, the production leans into physical storytelling. Movement and proximity carry meaning. The choreography of intimacy feels intentional, reflecting Loriaux’s movement background and steady hand.
This is grown-up theater.
Two nude scenes unfold with composure and dramatic clarity. They underscore vulnerability rather than provoke reaction. Illusion gives way to exposure — literal and emotional. The staging treats these moments with gravity and discipline, reinforcing the play’s central inquiry into identity and belief.
Scenes breathe. Silence carries weight. Political tension and personal longing weave tightly together. By the final revelation, the room grows quiet in a way that feels earned.
When illusion falls away, what remains is the story we chose to believe.
Involving production
San Francisco Playhouse delivers a disciplined staging centered on performance. Lighting and scenic design frame intimacy and interrogation with clarity. The ensemble supports the central arc with tonal balance, moving fluidly between romantic suggestion and political reckoning.
The pacing builds deliberately, almost imperceptibly at first, until the emotional stakes stand fully revealed.
What it adds up to
M. Butterfly explores ego, desire, and belief with unsettling precision. Its power lies in watching how a cherished narrative gathers strength — how repetition becomes conviction, how conviction becomes identity.
This production leans into that progression. It draws you in gently, almost courteously, and then begins removing layers. By the end, what remains feels stark and human.
You leave carrying more than plot. You carry the recognition that illusion rarely feels false while you’re inside it. It feels persuasive. It feels flattering. It feels like love.
Illusion persuades. Belief commits. Reality waits.
How to see it / Get tickets
San Francisco Playhouse
450 Post Street, San Francisco
February 5 – March 14
Tickets: $52–$145
sfplayhouse.org
415-677-9596
Approximately 2 hours, 35 minutes, including one 15-minute intermission
Each review is created through my proprietary FocusLens℠ method—an original editorial process shaped by firsthand experience, critical insight, and structured narrative design. Original photography, graphics, director quotes, and animated elements are incorporated to enhance reader engagement and visual impact. State-of-the-art scaffolding systems support organization and phrasing, but every sentence and decision reflects my own voice and judgment. These are not AI-generated reviews—they are authored, shaped, and published by me.
