An evening at the Greenwich Playhouse for The Provoked Wife is essential for all post-Restoration, Eighteenth-Century and Jazz Age enthusiasts alike. First performed in 1697, the comedy that shocked and provoked late Seventeenth-Century society is transported into the ‘roaring Twenties’ in a daring style with which Vanbrugh would have been impressed.

It is often the case that when individuals have dual talents, over time one either outshines the other or falls by the wayside. Vanbrugh’s architecture and his plays have stood the test of time: Blenheim Palace and Castle Howard are still standing; The Relapse and The Provoked Wife are still performed over three hundred years later. In spite of Vanbrugh’s popularity, 1690s England was a politically sensitive time. After the ‘Glorious Revolution’ of 1688 the country entered into a contract with the monarch just as husbands and wives entered into the bonds of arranged marriages. It is this theme that makes the play a remarkable piece of protest literature and this theme that the actors in the current staged version at the Greenwich Playhouse portray so expertly.

Discontent with her loveless marriage to Sir John Brute, Lady Brute is ‘provoked’ into considering an extra-marital affair with her debonair admirer, Constant. She faces two options: unfaithfulness or divorce. Both were exceedingly scandalous and did nothing to help the reputation of the early Eighteenth-Century theatre in terms of morality. Encouraged in this by her niece Bellinda, her intentions are eventually thwarted by the outrageous Lady Fanciful who threatens to expose Lady Brute’s infidelities. Eventually, she is unable to do neither and a resolution takes place but this evidently gives both Restoration and modern audiences ‘food for thought’.

If The Provoked Wife should have been staged in modern dress, then the 1920s is perhaps the only period which complements the play perfectly. The ‘Jazz Age’ was bold, brilliant and radical. The characters, according to director Joss Bennathan, are Wodehousian and are part of the ‘wealthy Mayfair set,’ which does not fit exactly with Vanbrugh’s intended digging at the nouveau riche in his principal characters but then parts of this version have been cut; however, the text and the actors’ characterisation worked admirably. The seating in the Greenwich Playhouse surrounds the stage on three sides and the actors played remarkably well to each; just as an early eighteenth-century company would have played to the aristocracy in the boxes on the stage. Indeed, theatre-boxes add significance to this play in particular as this is one of the ways in which Lady Brute is noticed by men other than her husband, as she says in Act III: ‘…I love to sit in the fore-front of a box…I perceive the men whispering and looking upon me’. This is one such truth of the behaviour of some women at the playhouses that confirmed the perceived immorality of the theatre at the time. In this staging of the play, the metempirical ‘fourth wall’ was cleverly parted by such acting ‘in the round’ as well as the asides to the audience. The performance was fast-paced and professional so that the audience never tired for one minute and there was always something to keep their attention.

Sir John Brute is played masterfully by the energetic John Dorney. The character was first played by the actor-manager Thomas Betterton and a further notable half a century later came in the form of David Garrick, who considered Brute to be one of his favourite rôles. John Dorney’s Brute is broody and menacing with just the right touch of resentment towards his wife. Dorney allows a sympathetic audience to share in his panic when cornered, angered and worried by events, or just comically blind drunk, as the character is for many of the scenes. In short, his character is almost likeable. Garrick, as portrayed in the famous painting by Zoffany of c. 1765, wears one of Lady Brute’s dresses in protest at female fashions of the day instead of the traditional clergyman’s robes as originally intended. This production takes it one step further and Dorney’s Brute dresses in the white coat of a doctor, giving him the appearance of an escaped mental patient but not without a great deal of humour.

Lady Brute is played by Laura Corbett, whose elegance and poise are precisely in keeping with the speech and mannerisms of early twentieth-century women; her accuracy, facial expressions and movement wonderfully convincing. An actor has just as much presence when standing still and Corbett accomplishes this with such finesse as to bring out the strength of the title role’s character as a woman, who though in a dire situation, refuses to be bulldozed by a brute of a husband.

Fleur Shepherd’s Bellinda as the refined coquette is the perfect complement to Corbett’s Lady Brute, especially in the private household scenes where the most important turns of the play take place. At the first performance in 1697, the celebrated Anne Bracegirdle played Bellinda to Elizabeth Barry’s Lady Brute, the latter being a famous tragedienne. The two performed many parts together; thus a successful rapport between actresses is necessary for the duo of young aunt and niece and Shepherd and Corbett’s performance bounced off the witty lines of the dialogue in a sparkling Rosencrantz and Guildenstern-esque style.

The fabulous Joan Walker as an outrageous and semi-Bohemian Lady Fanciful was one of the most successful highlights of the show. Her perfect diction, timing and balletic motion made for a superbly hilarious performance, as shown by the audience’s reaction in laughing uproariously and sitting to attention whenever she came on the stage. Flamboyant and vividly-dressed, Walker’s Lady Fanciful seemed to have an embodiment of all strong ‘Mayfair’ Wodehousian women rolled into one; yet at the same time had such a unique interpretation as to be quite unlike anything else ever seen. Her commanding, statuesque presence was interchanged with energetic bounding across the stage and overall, was one of the most enjoyable characters to watch.

The companion of Lady Fanciful, the confident and at times scheming Madamoiselle was played by Provence Maydew, who lent to the character a certain feigned innocence which deceptively belied the words spoken and thus worked excellently, providing an alternative slant to the rôle. Maydew’s command of French was that of a native and her neat and elegant movements were truly fitting to the part.

Jamie Hutchins as the dapper and handsome Constant served as a direct contrast to Dorney’s Sir John, bringing a sense of refinement to the male quotient of the play. Facial expression and reactions to Lady Brute in such an adoring way was slightly reminiscent of Gussie Fink-Nottle’s wooing of Madeline Bassett. A character often seemingly subservient to and overshadowed by Lady Brute, Hutchins’ interpretation lent a great strength of presence to Constant.

Heartfree, the notorious woman-hater-and-lover was played by Sam Nicholl. Just as lively and intense and even at some times as menacing as Sir John Brute, Nicholl’s interpretation allowed the audience to either love or hate Heartfree and his rapport with the observers was evident. The scenes between him and Lady Fanciful were most comical and the actors worked well together.

Joshua Manning and Oliver King were both excellent in playing multiple roles. Manning has a great ability to switch accents, including Scottish to English, with comparative ease; while King’s reactions to the ladies’ commands for the benefit of the audience whilst playing the part of tailor gave more to this role than others might have played it. Such was the versatility of the two actors that it could have been difficult to tell that they were playing different parts for different scenes.

All areas of the stage were used to advantage and the props were minimal so that it enabled an otherwise small theatre to appear deceptively large. The main vehicles of scenery were two large black frames that had multiple uses as windows, doors and trellis frames for an arbour. Their interchanging was choreographed so that they could be moved noiselessly and unobtrusively by the actors. The cream and olive flooring with green semi-circled wallpaper indigenous to the period worked well with the stark contrast of black and red furniture. The colour schemes worked well with the settings by the simple but effective use of reversible cushions so that reds could be changed to greens for the outdoor scenes. The lighting complemented both the set and the actors well and was dimmed appropriately so that the actors moving the scenery could still see, although they could not be seen by the audience.

Overall, the quality of the acting was superb and the intimate structure of the auditorium complemented audience appreciation perfectly and there was a reaction from them at every other line. The dialogue, though late seventeenth century, did not seem out of place in an early twentieth-century setting, especially with the colourfully tasteful blending of set and costume. Lastly, the 1920s poster design was enticing and professional in red and black to match the set.

Sir John Vanbrugh’s ‘The Provoked Wife’ played at the Greenwich Playhouse, 12th October to 6th November 2011. Presented and Abridged by Perfect Mayhem; produced by Poppy Maydew and Perfect Mayhem; directed by Joss Bennathan.