It’s probably a sign that things in general are becoming weird when things at Devialet become less weird. If you can’t rely on a company that’s established an impeccable reputation for producing singularly strange and utterly unmistakable products to produce said singular, unmistakable products, well … what can you rely on?
With hindsight, the trajectory that’s brought us to this point is obvious. Devialet announced itself to the world at large with the remarkable Phantom wireless speaker and all its variants—a product for which the description “wireless speaker” is altogether too mild and unspecific. The technologies it incorporates are bespoke, the industrial design inside which they sit is unique, and its performance is entirely unambiguous.
With the launch of the Dione soundbar, though, Devialet lowered itself to producing a mild variation on a theme. An expensive and robust-sounding variation, admittedly, but a variation nonetheless.
And now here’s the Mania. Crazy name, uncrazy product. Try as it might to suggest Mania is a wireless speaker distinct from all the others out there, the facts are undeniable. Mania is a small wireless speaker, remarkably inexpensive by Devialet standards, light on the visual drama Devialet has until now been so fond of, and pitched into an area of the market where the competition is (a) fierce and (b) acclaimed. Rather than standing at one remove from any nominal competition, the Mania finds itself right in the thick of the action.
At 193 x 176 x 139 millimeters (H x W x D), the Mania isn’t quite a sphere, though it does its darndest to pretend it is. At first glance it looks like nothing more than a miniature version of the old, all-conquering PV1 subwoofer by Bowers & Wilkins (and there are far less credible devices to resemble). It’s available in “light grey,” “deep black,” or as an “Opéra de Paris” edition, which is basically “light grey” with gold accents rather than chromium silver.
No matter the finish you decide on, Mania features a ribbed, plasticized strip “inspired by high-end watch straps” around its circumference. It’s moulded to form a carrying handle at the top, and there are some physical controls recessed into either side. This strip also features a button to defeat the mics (Mania is compatible with Amazon Alexa voice assistance) and a USB-C input for charging the battery. (Devialet claims Mania will last 10 hours between charges when played at “moderate” volume levels, which is perhaps the first time the company has used this word in relation to one of its products.) There’s a little light to tell you what Mania is up to, and a four-light strip indicating remaining battery life. And there’s an optional “Mania Station” charging plinth available, if you find the idea of cables a turn-off.