The Joy of Cuckoldry

ONE OF THE FEW THINGS left to us from the generally stagnant era of English history called the Restoration is Restoration comedy. Playwrights such as Congreve, Vanbrugh and William Wyncherly fashioned a brand of theatrical social satire using the raw materials afforded by courtly foppery and greed and the devil-take-all decadence of the urban upper classes. Relying heavily on wit, bawdry, and ludicrously fashioned images, these plays were often quite vicious in their criticism of London society despite the fact that many of the playwrights were a part of the madhouse themselves.

William Wycherly was one of the better writers from this period, and The Country Wife is one of his better plays, some say the best. The plot revolves around a professional rake named Horner, who with the help of his doctor, Quack, convinces the men of London society that he is impotent. Led by Sir Jaspar Fidget, these men of court eagerly dump their wives on Horner in the hopes that his "harmless" company will keep them away from young swains who would sooner cuckold a husband than look at one. Naturally, Horner spends the rest of the play leaping in and out of bed after he informs the eager wives of his secret. The country wife of the title is married to a retired "whoremaster," Pinchwife. He believes in marrying a fool so as to avoid being fooled, but he too is duped by Horner. Pinchwife's jealous attempts to keep his wife shut away from the temptations of the town prove ineffectual in deterring his wife's simple-minded quest for a good time. Meanwhile, there are all sorts of subplots and subthemes, including the rake Harcourt's wooing of Pinchwife's sister, Alithea, away from her foppish fiance, Sparkish.

Though the plot is fairly standard stuff--a dash of Moliere, add Congreve and Sheridan to taste--Wycherly's potent satire makes this play rather interesting. Even now, the crudeness with which Wycherly has Horner deflate all the talk of honor and the false morality tossed off pro forma by the other characters is a bit shocking, and in 1675 it must have been downright obscene. Through Horner, Wycherly punctures the veneer of London society and shows that the underlying motivations of all these "noble" people are sex and greed, made vulga by the artificial gentility which tries to hide them from view. What makes the country wife so refreshing is her total lack of artifice and her good-hearted gusto for sex and fun. Yet she too is a fool, just as Pinchwife and Sir Fidget are fools, just as the Ladies Fidget and Squeamish are hypocrites. There is no one at all who is admirable in the play, unless it be Alithea, but she is no innocent herself, deftly playing one suitor against another.

THE LOEB PRODUCTION of the play does justice to Wycherly's satire, and in general the performers make the most of the barb-tongued dialogue. Director Norman Ayrton has captured the stylized nature of Wycherly's society in the highly stylized but rarely obtrusive things he has his cast do. Touches like the ladies' fans, which they snap open and shut in precise timing with their lines, and the gestures of the fops and dandies underscore the contrived nature of the life Wycherly satirizes. In the first scene, everyone who walks on stage stops to preen in a full-length mirror, immediately setting the tone for what follows. Very little is chancy or slipshod when it comes to blocking or movement.

The performers all handle the roles quite well, which is a good thing because Wycherly's play has a tendency to drag in spots. James Horan gives a truly libidinous performance as the satyriacal, cynical Horner. Horan captures the selfish sexuality of Horner almost perfectly, though after a while the sight of him cramming his tongue down the ladies' throats is a bit much. Still, Horan copes well with the assignment Wycherly gives him; he is the satirical voice in the play. Horan would be the focus of the production were it not for Diane Venora's wonderful portrayal of Mafgery, the country wife. She literally saves the second and third acts as she camps and mugs her way out of her husband's jealous clutches and into Horner's lecherous arms. Venora puts on a very funny rural English accent and manages to be consistent about it, and her stage presence is excellent. She steals just about every scene she's in, especially when she dresses up as a man to see the town and ends up with a dozen oranges stuffed down her shirt.

The supporting cast is also, by and large, excellent. Dan Strickler as Fidget is a perfectly dotty old lord (though he is upstaged by the pug Pekinese he carries onstage), and Peter Haydu shines as the mincing fop, Sparkish.

The assorted ladies and gallants are all well done, though the tend to blend together as characters. David Eddy as Harcourt has one very funny sequence when disguised as a lisping cleric. Thomas Champion as Pinchwife starts a little slowly, but by the second act he warms to his role and becomes genuinely funny. Linda Cameron as Alithea and Lucy Stone McNeece suavely handle their parts, although Cameron could have injected a little more life into the admittedly flat part of Alithea. Even the various servants, played by Ralph Zito, Michael Miller and Andy Sellon are funny, particularly in the drinking scene in Act III.

It is fortunate, too, that the Loeb cast is so accomplished, because Wycherly's jokes have a tendency to fall flat on a 20th century audience. Almost nobody in the audience got the humor in the repeated references (i.e. Horner's name) to horns, cuckolds and the like, which is not so much a comment on their ignorance as an example of the changes in humor over 300 years. Cuckold jokes were a scream in 1675, but they are an anachronism now. Moreover, words don't mean the same things now as they did then. When Sparkish calls Horner "the sign of a man" after a long discussion of the street signs in the neighborhood, he is referring to Horner's supposed sexual malady, "sign" meaning the shadow of a man. Uh, right, ha ha.

Still, the basic themes of the play remain current; people are just as greedy and phony about sex now as in the 17th century. Men and women are just as distrustful of each other, although it is hard to imagine a 20th century character saying as Pinchwife does, "if we do not cheat women, they'll cheat us." Cuckold jokes may be out of style, but Wycherly's satire touches current issues like male chauvinism, and after all, fools are still fools. The only difference is that today's fools don't wear long wigs and feathers in their hats.