The Country Wife

It's a new record, sports fans. The Winthrop House production of William Wycherly's The Country Wife lasted a grand total of three hours and 20 minutes last night, incredible though it may seem. The wonder of it is, I suppose, that the show wasn't terribly boring--for Restoration comedy, even at a more rational length, is usually something less than a laff riot. To its great credit, the Winthrop House production managed to be entertaining, although there were some pretty desperate moments in the fifth act.

I couldn't begin to describe the plot of The Country Wife. Most of the frenetic running around concerns the activities of one Harry Horner, a professed eunuch who in fact is doing quite well, thank you. Horner has little trouble fooling Sir Jasper Fidget, a cuckold's cuckold, but he runs into difficulty when he goes after Mrs. Margery Pinchwife, chiefly because Mr. Pinchwife hasn't been told that Horner is impotent, which, of course, he isn't, if you follow me. So much for the plot exposition.

It should seem at least faintly evident by now that no production of The Country Wife could succeed because of the inherent greatness of the play. But the Winthrop version does triumph, despite technical annoyances, thanks to classic performances by eight members of the cast. There are few tasks more difficult than maintaining a ridiculous, grotesque pose for three hours and 20 minutes. It makes the actors' job even harder when the play is set 300 years in the past, and when all the principals are forced to mouth an incredible amount of nonsense verbiage.

Yet the Winthrop players do all this, and do it well. Stanley F. Pickett as Mr. Horner is a grinning, leering wonder. Yet his part is perhaps easier than those of Mr. Pinchwife (Michael Rowan), and Mr. Sparkish (Howard Kramer), and Sir Jasper (Chuck Breyer). Rowan creates a convincing picture of a blustery old fool; Kramer is the biggest, dumbest fop you or I have ever seen; and Breyer is hilarious as the Ed Wynn-ish cuckold.

The girls are just as good. Linda Bauer skillfully portrays Lucy, the maid, as an engaging, tough little tramp, and Shelia Stannard (Alithea), in spite of some awkward moments, makes an art form out of blandness. Tam Miller as Margery Pinchwife is magificently dumb, and leaps around the stage like an oversexed gnome. As for Emilie Rahman as Lady Fidget--boy, that Emilie Rahman. She is the best thing in the play as the wise-cracking, tough-talking Lady-always-in-waiting.

Unfortunately, most of the other performers are as bad as these eight are good. The rest of the cast has its moments, but not very many of them.

The direction, by Philip L. Stotter, is commendable. Stotter makes the most of the play's rich store of smut, without turning everyone's stomach. The great cuckold scene in Horner's house, which contains some memorable dirt, comes off admirably. Christie Dickason's make-up is excellent, and the costumes, designed by Miss Dickason, are seemingly authentic and in some cases revealing.