Mini Reviews
Friday, February 23, 2007; Page WE17
Mini Reviews
A star (*) denotes a show recommended by our critics.
Opening
THE CONSTANT WIFE
(At Olney Theatre Center through March 11)
In James Wolk's illuminated drawing room for W. Somerset Maugham's 1926 comedy, the decor is as tasteful, spotless and modern as the streamlined thinking of Constance Middleton, the unflappable spouse of the title. Given the period, Wolk and director John Going could have saturated the household with chintz and bric-a-brac, yet that wouldn't be Constance, who, as embodied by Julie-Ann Elliott, is a model of efficiency and discretion but never convention. And the conventions of marriage are very much under review: Seems everyone but Constance knows that her husband is having an affair -- and worse, he's carrying on with Constance's best friend, Marie-Louise (Ashley West). Constance's sister, Martha (Allyson Currin), thinks Constance should know. To tell, or not to tell? As the merits are parsed, Maugham warms up the audience for the twists. Bucking theatrical trends, Going and company don't belabor the obvious and don't trap Constance amid overplayed dolts, nor do they create an arid/stifling atmosphere for their heroine to bravely escape. Instead, they manage the affair as Constance would: with a muted but impeccable sense of style.
-- Nelson Pressley
SHAKESPEARE'S RAPE OF LUCRECE
(By Washington Shakespeare Company at Clark Street Playhouse through March 11)
Mounting one of Shakespeare's narrative poems takes a bit of nerve, and local playwright Callie Kimball's adaptation of this lesser-read text deals with a subject that makes your typical audience member extremely uncomfortable. Kimball and director Sarah Denhardt cannily exploit the discomfort factor in this ambitious and thought-provoking, if not wholly successful, production. As the toga-draped action courses remorselessly toward the central act of violence -- culminating in a wrenching scene of darkness, torn by screams -- it raises feminist arguments about the exploitation of women by men. The poem recounts how, in ancient Rome, an arrogant prince named Tarquin violated Lucrece, the virtuous wife of his fellow soldier Collatinus. Convinced that she was irrevocably tainted, Lucrece committed suicide, prompting one of Collatinus's relatives to lead a rebellion against Tarquin's tyrannical father -- an act that eventually led to the founding of the Roman Republic. Lucrece's suffering, in other words, paved the way for political change -- a tale disturbing and resonant in our modern world. No one would call Kimball's "Lucrece" flawless, but it's bold and provocative -- and it's certainly a change from Shakespeare's usual suspects.
-- Celia Wren
