The Way of the World by William Congreve, and: The Fantastic Follies of Mrs Rich by Mary Pix (review)

In the aftermath of movements such as Waking the Feminists (which criticized Irish theatres for their failure to hire more female playwrights and designers) and #metoo (which began with the revelation of producer Harvey Weinstein’s repeated abuse of women in Hollywood), theatre directors and producers are hungry for plays from the historical repertoire that were written by women, or that at least feature strong female roles. It is perhaps no coincidence, then, that works from the Restoration and eighteenth-century theatre—when the first English actresses began to appear onstage and to demand roles that would highlight their talents—are enjoying a bit of a renaissance these days. This renaissance helps to explain two dazzling productions that graced English stages this summer (2018): The Fantastic Follies of Mrs Rich (a slightly tweaked version of Mary Pix’s The Beau Defeated [1700]), directed by Jo Davies, opened at the Royal Shakespeare Company’s Swan Theatre in April; and James MacDonald’s production of Congreve’s comedy of the same year, The Way of the World, seduced audiences at the Donmar Warehouse in London. Both plays boast a wealth of roles for women, and both productions emphasize one of these roles in particular, that of the aging widow fooled by her own vanity into pursuing a man who turns out to be a little too good to be true. Yet to my mind The Way of the World succeeds slightly better in not putting too much pressure on its aging widow, Lady Wishfort (played by the hilarious Haydn Gwynne), to speak for a twenty-first-century feminism, as Fantastic Follies demands of its Mrs Rich (the brilliant Sophie Stanton).

In MacDonald’s production, Lady Wishfort remains as Congreve wrote her: a supporting character whose brief moments of pathos give the play texture without ever detracting from Congreve’s invitation that we laugh heartily at her foibles, and at her ultimate comeuppance. This decision is indicative of MacDonald’s direction as a whole, which deftly trusts in the intelligence of its audience and the formidable talents of its actors to uncover the relevance and the revelations of Congreve’s play without the aid of flashy updates or modern stage tricks. Anna Fleischle’s beautifully simple design pays tribute to Restoration stage practices: a wood-paneled wall at the back of the stage suggests a chocolate-house and Lady Wishfort’s home and then slides away to reveal a painted flat of foliage as the characters promenade through St. James Park.

The backdrop highlights without detracting from the performances themselves: Fisayo Akinade as Witwould and Christian Patterson as Sir Wilfull Witwould steal the scenes in which they appear and testify to the care and comedy Congreve devoted even to his minor characters. Justine Mitchell as Millamant is especially enticing, her teasing lilt suggesting at once the wit and the intriguing vulnerability of a character who, as Mirabell reminds her, “wou’d affect a cruelty which is not in your nature; your true vanity is in the power of pleasing” (act 2, scene 5). Tom Mison’s Fainall takes full advantage of the intimate Donmar space (fewer than one hundred seats arranged in three sides around a prominent proscenium); his flirtations with the audience perfectly capture both the charm and the manipulative nature of the Restoration rake. At first, Mitchell’s and Mison’s performances threaten to upstage Geoffrey Streatfeild’s comparatively tame portrayal of Mirabell, but the show-stopping proviso scene reveals that a deceptive flatness in the actor is instead a depth in the character: in a play composed two years after Jeremy Collier’s declamation against the Immorality and Profaneness of the English Stage, Streatfeild’s stately performance reminds us not to be seduced by the flashiness...