ARTSMONDAY: ‘Way of the World’ Universally Fun

One could be forgiven for not expecting “The Way of the World”—a play from the 18th century that deals with intersecting affairs, complicated marriage proposals, and attempts to secure inheritances—to be a punk-influenced romp. But that is exactly what veteran director Mary E. Birnbaum ’07 creates with her latest (and, sadly, final) production, which runs through May 5 at the Loeb Mainstage. The show is produced by Ben M. Poppel ’09 and Aileen K. Robinson ’08, and it satirizes its own genre, often to hilarious effect.

The story of “The Way of the World,” written by William Congreve, is, in the best tradition of English stage comedies, highly convoluted, fairly trivial, and resolved by marriage. The details, which remain slightly hazy even after the conclusion, are less important than the characters and their relationships.

The protagonist is Mirabell (Joseph “Jack” Cutmore-Scott ’10), who loves Millamant (Olga Zhulina ’09), whose aunt is Lady Wishfort (Alison H. Rich ’09). Wishfort has to be married before she will give her blessing (and her fortune) to the couple, so Mirabell decides to have an already-married servant pretend to be a lord and court her.

Wishfort’s daughter and co-conspirator with Mirabell is Mrs. Fainall (Rachel E. Flynn ’09), whose husband is having an affair with Mrs. Marwood (Sophie C. Kargman ’08), a woman who is trying to thwart Mirabell. Wishfort wants Millament to marry Sir Willful Witwoud (Rob D. Salas ’08), a loud and crass gentryman from the countryside, whose brother (Barry A. Shafrin ’09) lives in the city and has become a full-time fop who helps Mirabell with his schemes. Got all that?

The two main couples—protagonists Mirabell and Millamant and villains Mr. Fainall and Mrs. Marwood—are played expertly and each have a few great comedic moments. However, they are by and large stuck with the thankless task of advancing the plot, while other characters reach ever-greater heights of outrageousness around them.

In particular, Rich portrays the hapless, desperate-for-marriage, pinheaded Wishfort to great comedic effect, as does Salas as the uncouth, oversexed Sir Willful. Rich plays Wishfort’s awkwardness amazingly, scrambling over tables, jumping into arms, and overturning her huge hoop skirts in misguided attempts at seductiveness. Meanwhile, Salas barks out his lines about seeing “foreign parts” and the foppery of the city, swaggering around like a drill sergeant after about ten drinks too many and stealing every scene he’s in.

The production cultivates a split personality between a staid period piece and a more modern sensibility—which works brilliantly, even if it is a little overly-obvious at times.

Take, for example, the opening of the show, which moves from a lip-synch of Pat Benatar’s “Hit Me With Your Best Shot” to a classical piece that plays under the prologue. In the same vein, self-parodying gags like the announcement of each character’s entrance in the final scene with a spotlight, a theme song, and a pose are wonderfully funny—especially because they play off the tone and conventions of the era’s plays.

Birnbaum’s inclusion of modern elements like rock songs, rollerblades, and neon lights creates a frivolous, fun atmosphere in excellent keeping with the themes of “The Way of the World.” However, other moments, like a fairly long, sexually-charged dance number which seemed to be included because someone thought the play had gone too long without anything sexy happening, are less seamless and more puzzling.

The acting in “The Way of the World” encompasses as many shifts in mood as its staging does in tone. It is a difficult play to understand on the page, and even more so when the words are flying by the audience at breakneck speed. More than in most plays, how things are said in “The Way of the World” is at least as important as the lines themselves.

Birnbaum usually has the actors convey the emotions of a scene at a high emotional pitch, which is hilarious in scenes with Wishfort or Sir Willful. It is just as powerful in a scene where Mirabell and Millamant yell over each other to determine the conditions upon which they will marry, and ultimately rip open their clothes to sign their contract on each others’ backs.

Most of the time, the acting serves to smooth over confusion about the details of the plot, rather than exacerbate it. However, in some scenes with Mr. Fainall and Mrs. Marwood, their emotions seem to have been picked at random.

While it’s amusing when their dialogue is interspersed with frantic kissing during a meeting in a park, it’s just plain odd in other scenes. For instance, at one point, Marwood is in tears as Fainall chokes her while they attempt to work out a plan to foil the hopes of Mirabell and Millamant and gain their fortunes.

The artistic design of the play serves to underscore its indeterminate time period. The costumes, designed by Sabrina Chou ’09, are roughly period-based in design, but almost all in plain white and simple fabrics, more suggesting the era than depicting it. Then, of course there are the occasional appearances of a girl in hotpants and a red jacket, whom the program identifies as “DJ’s Girlfriend/Fertility Goddess.” Nearly everyone is wearing layers of white makeup, lipstick, and a wig, which creates an effect that is equal parts Restoration Comedy and Rocky Horror.

The set by Grace C. Laubacher ’09 is fairly minimalist, with tall rolling platforms representing beds and couches and allowing fantastic entrances from the wings.

Lights off to the sides spelling out “Wit” and “Honor” continue the theme of the modern intersecting with the old. A clear plastic screen in back is painted by the cast as the play unfolds, revealing black patterns printed on it. While this seems to have little connection to the themes of the play, it is extremely visually arresting.

Underneath all the makeup, 18th century contract negotiations, and postmodern touches, “The Way of the World” is at its heart a hilarious play, made more so by Birnbaum and her actors. It may require a flowchart to keep up with all the deceptions and plots of the play, but no effort is required to enjoy the unfolding of its many schemes.

—Reviewer Elisabeth J. Bloomberg can be reached at bloomber@fas.harvard.edu.