By Peter Marks
Washington Post Staff Writer
Tuesday, October 7, 2008

When you look at what has gone into Shakespeare Theatre Company's sure-handed revival of Congreve's 1700 comedy "The Way of the World," you come to a deeper understanding of why actors go through what they go through. It turns out little of the hard work is for celebrity, or the (occasional) paycheck, or even for art.

No, it's for the clothes.

The great Broadway costume designer Jane Greenwood has been recruited as couturière to the dandies and dowagers of this satire on vows, contracts and avarice, and quite wonderfully, what emerges from her sketchpad is an outrageous spring line in the color of money. Maybe Heidi Klum would have been a better judge for this challenge, but I'm willing to go out on a limb and declare Greenwood permanently "in."

Restoration comedy is catnip to theater designers; the fatuousness and vanity of all those wealthy fops and opportunistic rakes and grotesque bumpkins are traits that readily lend themselves to buoyant excess. To wear the threads and hang about the lollipop trees of Wilson Chin's eye-catching set, director Michael Kahn has put together a seasoned cast, well-versed in this sort of decorous exhibitionism. On this evening at the Lansburgh, we're only too happy to watch them prance and sashay -- there's even a servant named "Mincing" -- in all that self-parodying finery.

If you have seen some of the company's other treatments of classical Irish and British comedy, whether it was Keith Baxter's scrumptious "The Rivals" five years ago, or Kahn's own "Beaux' Stratagem" in 2006, you're accustomed to a relish for words and style. "The Way of the World" amiably keeps up comic appearances, even if it's not quite the hoot of some of its predecessors.

Oh, you'll get the requisite kick out of Nancy Robinette's sexually frustrated Lady Wishfort (pronounced "Wish-for-it"), an over-the-hill moneybags who thinks herself a hot mama. "I'll be taken by surprise," she says, hopefully. Floyd King and J. Fred Shiffman are enjoyably paired here as Witwoud and Petulant, egregiously plummy wooers who haven't got a prayer. And most rewardingly, Veanne Cox and Christopher Innvar have returned to the Lansburgh to play Millamant and Mirabell, the sharp romantic duelists at the hub of the action.

Still, Congreve's characters don't appear to resonate as companionably as those of his contemporary, Farquhar, or the later Sheridan. And the windiness of his locutions sometimes trips up the actors, who on occasion are swallowing their lines. (The relationships among the characters are so involved, and the details of their fiduciary entanglements so obscure, that you'll want to hang on every shred of information.)

Shall we delve deeply into plot? Oh, let's not. In a nutshell: A couple of spiteful, adulterous society wretches (Andrew Long and Deanne Lorette) are trying to get their hands on all the money and other property of Lady Wishfort's daughter (Barbara Garrick) and niece, Cox's Millamant. Servants scheme, lovers spar, Lady Wishfort gets over-excited. And then everyone dances.

It takes time for the shenanigans to start to pay off, but once Robinette is abusively sending her maids scurrying for her rouge and cherry liqueur, the laughs begin to come in earnest. A subplot involving a ruse and a pair of married servants is considerably upgraded in wit, thanks to the ministrations of Colleen Delany and Todd Scofield, two of the most versatile classical actors in town.

As Petulant, Shiffman lives up to the character's name, wearing a countenance that makes it appear as if he's sucking on a rancid cough drop. The look of indeterminate illness works just fine, as does the expression King affects, of overripe hauteur. Long and Lorette portray the heavies with as much lightness as the roles allow.

Cox, who brought winning drollery to the role of Kate Sullen in "The Beaux' Stratagem," and Innvar, impressive in his leading-man turns in "Stratagem" and "The Taming of the Shrew," add to the luster here of a yin-yang partnership. Cox is all birdlike, playful elusiveness as Millamant, and Innvar all earthy charm as her suitor, Mirabell. Vive la differénce! The famous scene in which Millamant enumerates for Mirabell the conditions on which she will allow herself to "dwindle into a wife" exudes some of the piquancy of a Tracy-and-Hepburn movie.

Like every other actor, Cox and Innvar are dressed lavishly in shades of green, which not only suggests the mercenary underpinnings, but also the envy running rampant through "The Way of the World": Everybody's got an eye here on what someone else possesses. It feels as if Greenwood has been allowed to give us her own interpretation of the play, and she does so verdantly, in fringes and trims and ruffles and tights.

The Way of the World, by William Congreve. Directed by Michael Kahn. Lighting, Charlie Morrison; composer, Adam Wernick; sound, Veronika Vorel; voice and text coach, Gary Logan; literary associate, Akiva Fox; choreographer, Frank Ventura. With Doug Rees, Julie-Ann Elliott, Elizabeth Jernigan, Steven J. Hoochuk, Stacey Cabaj, Peter Boyer, Jeffrey Scott. About 2 1/2 hours. Through Nov. 16 at Lansburgh Theatre, 450 Seventh St. NW. Call 202-547-1122 or visit http://www.shakespearetheatre.org.