Playwright: George Bernard Shaw
At: Remy Bumppo Theatre Company at the Victory Gardens Greenhouse,
2257 N. Lincoln
Phone: 773-871-3000; $35-$40
Runs through: April 22
BY MARY SHEN BARNIDGE
Mrs. Warren's profession—being the, um, 'oldest profession'—made George Bernard Shaw's play such a shocker that the British censors banned its performance in 1894, and did not relent until eight years later, even though neither the matron's job title nor description is ever uttered in the text. Shaw speculated that if he had written a play about a racetrack bookmaker, calling it Mister Warren's Profession, the moral outcry would have been considerably less.
The moral aspects of prostitution—we can say it nowadays—take a back seat to the conflict between business and sentiment in Shaw's argument, however. Confronted with a society providing small reward for women employed in legal trades, Kitty Warren ( the 'Mrs.' an honorary title bestowed on females in managerial positions ) opted for the substantial reward proffered by its more shadowy industries. Her successful chain of brothels on the continent have financed a wholesome upbringing and impeccable education for her daughter. But Miss Vivian Warren's scholarship has led her to conclude that marriage and harlotry are only two sides of the same coin—so to speak—and, to instead, choose the far more radical career of an independent, feminist-leaning ( and possibly lesbian, if you read closely between the lines ) insurance actuary.
When actors are directed by a fellow actor, the result often resembles children gleefully carrying on as each pleases in the absence of a playground monitor. Not so the personnel of Remy Bumppo Theatre, under the guidance of veteran company member David Darlow. A roster of only six characters places a heavy burden on each player, but with Susan Shunk and Annabel Armour as the Warrens mére et fille at the vanguard, ably supported by Kevin Gudahl, Donald Brearley, Matt Schwader and Joe Van Slyke as the men content to let the ladies run things, the ensemble navigates Shaw's intricate arguments with the esprit of comrades enjoying their work together. And if Armour's final scene slipped a wee bit over the top at the opening performance, it was thoroughly redeemed by Gudahl's subtle portrayal of the lecherous Sir George Crofts, whose smug ruthlessness never descends into caricature.
Our own society's salacious thrills at the notion of sex-for-hire having peaked somewhere between Xaviera Hollander and Heidi Fleiss, a discussion of its economics is as relevant and necessary as it is long overdue. Whoever would have thought that we'd find it in a play premiering over a century ago?