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by W. Somerset Maugham, directed by Neil Munro

Shaw Festival, Royal George Theatre, Niagara-on-the-Lake

May 6-October 9, 2005

"A Constant Delight"

“The Constant Wife” is one of the joys of the Shaw Festival’s 2005 season.  This 1926 drawing room comedy by W. Somerset Maugham has mysteriously come into vogue this year with productions in at least four other North American cities including New York, yet the Shaw production is so ideally cast, directed and designed it is hard to imagine how it could be bettered.  Those who know Maugham (1874-1965) only from such novels as “The Razor’s Edge” (1944) and “Of Human Bondage” (1915), will be surprised at how effervescent this comedy is.  “The Constant Wife” combines Shaw’s unromantic analysis of marriage as an economic contract with with a sparkling of bon mots worthy of Oscar Wilde.

The constant wife of the title is Constance Middleton, wife of John, a Harley Street surgeon, for 15 years.  Constance’s mother and sister, Mrs. Culver and Martha, are in a state because it has become so blatantly obvious that John is having an affair with Constance’s best friend, Marie-Louise.  Barbara, another friend, also knows about it.  Indeed, it seems everybody but Constance knows and the major concern is who should tell her.  The big twist to this typical plot set-up is that Constance not only already knows about John but she has known from the very beginning and, to everyone’s consternation, she also doesn’t care.  To top it off she believes that to behave in any other way than she does would not be a load of sentimental rubbish. Meanwhile, the tall, dark, handsome and wealthy Bernard Kersal, who has always loved Constance, has returned from the Far East for a year.  He wants Constance to go away with him.  The question is “How will she respond?”

The play fizzes with humour, most of it derived from the frustration of those who surround Constance with her refusal to play the clichéd part of the injured wife.  The more composed she appears, the more upset they become.  Worse, they find her views deeply shocking that marriage without love is little more than legalized prostitution.  We, too, sit in delighted amazement that a character in a 1926 play should dissect the nature marriage so thoroughly and dispassionately.

As Constance, Laurie Paton is a marvel.  The difficulty of the role is that Constance does not change.  She has a fixed, rational, internally consistent set of beliefs whose full extent is gradually revealed during the course of the action.  The trick is to give Constance an allure that will fascinate for the three acts of the play.  That is precisely what Paton does.  Paton’s absolute composure and demeanour suggest a goddess in human guise who finds the petty, sentimental concerns mortals infinitely amusing.  Paton frequently adopts the archaic smile of pre-classical art signifying a satisfaction and knowledge that go beyond the merely human.  Yet, when Constance is alone with Bernard, her sole philosophical equal, Paton glows with warmth. 

The rest of the cast is flawless.  Patricia Hamilton is Constance’s old fogeyish mother so upset by the situation she gets caught up in her own cant.  As Constance’s sister Martha, Catherine McGregor moves about the stage with feline calculation, her “concern” for Constance clearly one of malice rather sisterly affection.  Glynis Ranney plays Marie-Louise as a teary, empty-headed ninny, making John’s impulse to adultery look even worse.  In contrast, Wendy Thatcher’s Barbara is sturdy, tough-minded businesswoman.

Blair Williams is in fine form as John, who is more bewildered than anyone at Constance’s matter-of-fact attitude.  John’s thinking, both in terms of marriage and in love affairs, is so conventional it’s laughable, especially when faced with Constance’s subversive views.  Peter Krantz will certainly set hearts aflutter as Bernard, a portrait of real, enduring romantic love in total contrast with John’s frivolity.  He is a perfect match for Constance, as secure in his love as she is in rationality.  Michael Ball has an enjoyable cameo as Marie-Louise’s ranting husband, Mortimer, his bluster showing he’s as foolish as she is.  Al Kozlik is Middletons’ unflappable butler Bentley.

Neil Munro has directed with a keen sense of detail.  Its pacing is taut but not so brisk as to blunt Maugham’s crescendo of surprising barbs.  The action takes place in a very smart drawing room designed by William Schmuck and enhanced by Andrea Lundy’s subtle lighting.  Schmuck’s 1920s costumes are stylishly unfussy except, appropriately enough, for the artistic Barbara, who is an interior decorator.               

A 1920s comedy focussing as it does on women, the conventions of marriage and the return of a former lover, “The Constant Wife” begs comparison with Noel Coward’s “Fallen Angels” of 1925, now playing at the Stratford Festival.  “Fallen Angels” is very funny but also very fluffy, a wonderful vehicle for two seasoned actresses but hardly Coward’s greatest work.  “The Constant Wife”, on the other hand, is that rare comedy that is both very funny but also thought-provoking.  In fact, it is no less than a comedic updating of Ibsen’s “A Doll’s House”.  The play is such an eye-opener, let’s hope “The Constant Wife” is the beginning of a Maugham series at the Shaw.

©Christopher Hoile

Note: This review is a Stage Door exclusive.

Photo: Laurie Paton and Blair Williams. ©2005