T H E A T R E聽聽 R E V I E W
DalTheatre鈥檚 2010/11 season, 鈥淭hrough the Looking Glass鈥�, has already invited audiences to adventure through suburban surrealism (The Bald Soprano and Jacques or Obedience), spelunk the grimmer side of fairy tales (Into the Woods), and hob-nob with high (and low) French society (The Madwoman of Chaillot) in pursuit of the truth which lies in absurdity.聽 Its last offering of the season鈥擶illiam Wycherly鈥檚 The Country Wife鈥攊s a bawdy tale of an innocent country girl鈥檚 introduction to the big bad city.
SEE PHOTOS: An innocent abroad
The play, which revolves around infidelity鈥檚 more undignified complications, follows Mrs. Margery Pinchwife (Katie Dorian) as she pursues cosmopolitan crush Mr. Horner (Ben Irvine). Mr. Horner has fed the local rumour mill a Machiavellian fib: that he returned from a trip to France missing body parts of an unseen but vital nature. His new status as poseur eunuch causes married friends to leave him alone with their 鈥渘oble鈥� wives. While Mr. Pinchwife (David Hung) attempts to prevent his wife Margery from embarrassing him in the fashion of a 鈥渘oble鈥� London wife, his fairly virtuous sister Alithea (a bright and unflappable Jamie Galbraith) attempts to decide which of her two suitors to wed, and which to be rid of. If all this sounds complicated, well, I admit it鈥檚 rather involved. It may help to think of the action as a theatrical game of Cat鈥檚 Cradle鈥攅ach tangled situation results in another, until finally, suddenly, everything is resolved (and, although the entire cast is onstage, no one鈥檚 quite sure how it happened).
Much of this production of The Country Wife鈥檚 humour comes from its willingness to work with, and not against, an inarguably dated text. Theatrical 鈥渁sides鈥� 鈥� in which a character pauses the action onstage to address the audience鈥攁re played farcically and broadly. Cuckoldry jokes (even Mr. Horner鈥檚 name is probably a reference to the proverbial 鈥渃uckold鈥檚 horns鈥�) are embraced for their antiquated humour rather than rushed through. And accents 鈥� posh, Cockney, and whatever the heck Margery鈥檚 is 鈥� are heavy, consistent, and polished.
An attention to Restoration detail is present everywhere in the production, from the program credits of characters nameless on stage (surely Bonnie Abramsky鈥檚 鈥淣ell Quinn鈥� is a reference to Restoration actress, and royal mistress, Nell Gwyn) to the extraordinarily detailed period costumes worn by the performers. I overheard one actress mention that the gowns weighed upwards of 45 pounds; certainly a difficult garment to bear continually, even if one does not consider that this production of The Country Wife ends with a spirited jig. It comes as no surprise that the costume team for this production consisted of more than 30 people.
Some of the humour of The Country Wife has not aged gracefully 鈥� domestic abuse doesn鈥檛 get many laughs in the modern theatre (thankfully) 鈥� but even where it occasionally flags as a comedy, The Country Wife succeeds as a historical document. The program even includes a glossary of Restoration slang to keep audiences from getting lost: in Margery鈥檚 world, 鈥渂ubbled鈥� means 鈥渢ricked鈥�, 鈥渇ropish鈥� means 鈥渇retful鈥�, and 鈥渃hangeling鈥� means 鈥渟impleton.鈥�
Director James Dodding and assistant directors Joshua C. Law, Eric Saltsman, and Tessa Pekeles have put together an entertaining and amusing production 鈥� one which transports audiences not merely out of the theatre, but back in time.
The Country Wife runs until April 2 in the Sir James Dunn Theatre, and the wise theatregoer will not allow any fropish changeling to bubble them out of seeing the show.
Rebecca Schneidereit is a fourth-year student studying English, theatre and film studies.