With its production of Václav Havel's The Beggar's Opera, Švandovo first provided English surtitles for a Czech play. The latest is an in-house English translation of František Langer's play Periferie, an event that should be celebrated by every Czechophilic Anglophone theatergoer in town.

Periferie premiered in 1925 at what is now divadlo na Vinohradech with a set design by Josef Čapek. The play quickly found an important German supporter in the great Max Reinhardt, who directed the first German production of Langer's piece.

It's easy to see why the Germans would have appreciated the play, as it is infused with lessons from Expressionist drama. The story takes place in the lower depths of Prague, where a recently released prisoner, Franci, tries to start his life over as a dancer. He falls in love with a prostitute, Anna, who also aches to leave her present condition behind and join Franci on the stage. All Franci needs to meet his dreams is a good suit. One finally comes his way, but at the price of his soul.

In his book Magic Prague, Angelo Maria Ripellino refers to Franci as an "unlucky rogue," which is a fair assessment. In a moment of passion, Franci accidentally kills one of Anna's Johns, but finds a clever way of disguising his crime. Almost from the moment of the murder, Franci's luck changes. He gets the suit, the girl, the career and the public's adulation. Yet his crime begins to gnaw at him.

Expressionist theater was drama of the lone damaged soul, and Franci's plight becomes a classic example. He feels compelled to confess his crime to everyone he meets in a desperate search for redemption, yet no one will believe him — including the police.

The play becomes a wickedly black comedy of a remorseful man seeking solace from a world that easily shrugs off bloodshed. It's only a derelict former judge who offers Franci some hope, but his advice is chilling: No one will believe you are a murderer until you murder again.

Periferie is a highly stylized play that demands a stylish director, and unfortunately, the production at Švandovo lacks this. Director Daniel Hrbek makes the mistake of staging the play as a slice of Realism, which often makes it come off as stale soap opera. There are also some clumsy scenes, particularly in the nightclub where Franci and Anna dance.

The actors do their level-best in this misguided production, particularly the excellent supporting cast headed by Stanislav Šárský as the soused soudce who sentences Franci to further murder, and Martin Sitta as Barborka, a caddish pal of Franci's, whom Langer uses as a sly tribute to his friend Jaroslav Hašek.

As Franci and Anna, Viktor Limr and Jana Stryková prove that they could be capable of much more with a director who wasn't trying to direct The Hairy Ape like Anna Christie.