In this age of racquetball, leather pants, and multi-colored dildos, it's sometimes difficult to relate to plays written before indoor plumbing.
The American Repertory's latest production possessed all three aforementioned modern conventions (a racquetball court on wheels - can you believe it?) yet, used them merely to qualify the production for modern times; the script, characters, and overall play remained intact.
While the American Repertory may have toyed with John Vanbrugh's 1698 play, "The Provok'd Wife," in the end they knew when to supplement Vanbrugh's drama with anachronisms, and when to let his words simply stand on their own.
Recognized by many as one of the best regional theaters in the country (TIME magazine listed the American Rep next to such established theaters as Minneapolis' Guthrie and Chicago's Goodman in last years best-of issue), the American Repertory has carved a name for itself on the heels of its intrepid and often avant-garde productions.
Yet, while sometimes their productions flounder in the depths of their ingenuity, the "The Provok'd Wife," which opens their 25th season, feeds off this expansive creativity; director Mark Wing-Davey has succeeded in bridging the 300-plus year gap between playwright and audience.
British director Wing-Davey has cracked such time-
barriers before. In 2003, he directed a production of "Henry V" which incorporated such political periods as the Soviet Union's 1925 Communist Revolution and Red China in the '40s in efforts to relate Shakespeare's 16th century ideas to his 21st century audience.
In "Wife," Wing-Davey approaches an equally archaic play (no offense, William) that was originally performed at the end of the 17th century and makes it matter to today's world.
Yet, while the costumes and set may playfully invoke modern times, the historical fact that women could not divorce their husbands in 17th century England binds the play to the past; the story of "A Provok'd Wife" does not stray far from its title.
Throughout the play, "Wife" divulges the secret yearnings of various members of English society, especially those of Lady Brute (Kate Forbes), who must contend with her drunken louse of a husband (an outstanding Bill Camp). At one point, Lady Brute comments that, "A faithful wife is a beautiful character," and therein lies the gorgeous irony of the script. Even a character - a character who knows she's a character - like Lady Brute cannot remain true to the one-dimensional principles of marriage.
Instead, she engages in extramarital flirtations with Constant (Peter Rini) in efforts to slyly cuckold her husband. Meanwhile, Constant's trusted friend Heartfree finds his heart is, ironically, no longer free but fettered to Lady Brute's niece, Belinda (Deborah Knox Meschan).
Of course, nothing is quite that simple. Much of the farce is derived from the play's complexity, sub-plots, and sub-sub-plots. While it is true that Restoration Comedies are often replete with countless sub-plots, at times the action on stage just got incredibly messy. While the play began with a creative and freshly written prologue (speaking to residents of Cambridge, "Maybe we are the intellectual elite/Sitting in the Catbird Seat"), the first few scenes that followed proved confusing.
However, there were
delicious diversions as well, for instance the interactions between Effie Johnson's Lady Fanciful (who dresses based on sheer fancy) and
her servant, the wickedly
funny Madamoiselle (Karen MacDonald).
Lady Fanciful - who at times looks to have raided an ostrich-feather-inclined '70s fashion designer - British Vivienne Westwood to be exact - defines much of the ridiculous attitudes of the period: she's nosy, vain, and invasive. She's also in love with Heartfree.
Both Macdonald and Johnson infuse their characters with such good-hearted intentions that the comedy and chemistry between them is unavoidable. They banter back and forth - "Curiosity is a charming devil" / "It's an amusing saint" - with an intensity only to be matched by Constant's and Heartfree's games of racquetball (an updated model of the ubiquitous English tennis court).
Often, it was these very "updates" that made the play so enthralling to watch. Other tweaks of time included transforming the surroundings of the erotic and edgy scene where various characters frolic at The Spring Gardens (A seedy London park) into something more akin to modern day Red Light Districts, complete with glow in the dark brassieres and moving cages. The experimentation with dialect was odd, yet pleasing at the same time.
Amidst all these modernizations, that the play didn't lose itself in our current world of flashiness and fluff speaks to the weight which tethers this production - in the form of Vanbrugh's original social commentary.
Because of its adulterous suggestions of desire, "The Provok'd Wife" was declared "particularly rampant and scandalous" by Anglican cleric Jeremy Collier when first written.
Yet, throughout the 18th century, it was to be one of the most popular Restoration Plays to grace the London Stage.
What's so tremendous here is that the play feels as real, as vital and as passionately charged as it must have centuries ago. There are drawbacks to any historical piece - modern audiences aren't used to the form and therefore can get easily lost in its numerous deviations from its main focus - but such sacrifices are easily worth the outcome.
With flawless acting, suburb direction, and outlandishly fun costuming and set design, this is one production that time cannot constrain.
