Making sense of gender roles has never been easy. In fact, it could be conjectured that our ancestors behaved as they did as much out of blundering frustration with one another — and onerous social mores — as maliciousness.
What a relief for each confused side to simply write the other off: “Men and women shall be kept in their separate boxes, one group sewing and cooking, the other hunting and riding, and the twain shall meet only under cover of darkness — and under many, many layers of flannel.”
When George Bernard Shaw wrote “The Philanderer” in 1893, he probably expected or at least hoped that his play — revolving as it does around the rights of women as seen through the then-radical lens of Henrik Ibsen’s ideas — would shock and offend. He was proven correct; the play was banned by censors and wasn’t produced until 1902. The radical idea that women are humans was at that time fearsome to many and unrecognizable to most.
Enter Leonard Charteris, the philanderer of the show’s title, played with exacting sharpness by Joseph Illingworth. Charteris is a member of the Ibsen Club, a society in which men and women are to be treated strictly as equals. There are to be no “manly men” or “womanly women” here — no sexist control, no tearful manipulation.
Charteris opens the show attempting to sweet-talk Grace Tranfield, played with poise by Danice Crawford. Within moments, however, Grace discovers that Charteris’ previous dalliance with Julia Craven (Alexis Bell) has only just — if at all — been broken off.
As one of Ibsen’s “new women,” Grace handles the news with aplomb, even when the hysterical “womanly woman” Julia bursts in and refuses to leave until she has secured the elusive commitment of Charteris. For his part, Charteris pirouettes amiably around the desires of each of his targets, attempting to arrange events to let him off their twin hooks.
Illingworth is tasked with carrying much of the show, and he does so admirably, especially given some problems that surround him. There is a coldness to his Charteris, but also a teasing, purring intellect that hoists those with whom he argues on the petard of their own logic. We can empathize as he navigates these treacherous waters.
Also of note is Crawford as the self-possessed Tranfield. She has an assurance that seems to be her own, as well as the character’s, that is a pleasure to watch.
As Craven, Bell is variously weepy, infuriated and pouting, and she delineates the character’s moments fairly well. Where it gets confusing is when she employs larger- than-life gestures like a hand to the forehead, or throwing herself “in a heap” on a sofa.
This is common in period pieces, especially comedies, but when only one actor uses such stylized movement while the others are naturalistic or almost casually modern, it becomes less clear whether it is a deliberate choice or an error of direction or acting.
In fact, there is a great deal of hesitancy in Joan Kuder Bell’s direction. At times it seems like the actors are each performing in different shows, with no overriding through- line. And while the show is heady and verbose, there are numerous farcical, physical- comedy elements that no one seems quite sure what to do with and which end up just seeming awkward.
Also a distraction were Richard Bell’s inordinate number of line flubs and “ums” inserted into the text while searching for the next word, which was, with luck, a one-time thing.
There is much to love here but also much that could have been better — which is perhaps as good a definition as any of relations between the genders.
“The Philanderer” ** (out of four stars)
Comedy. Presented by Upstart Crow at the Dairy Center for Fine Arts, 2590 Walnut St., Boulder. Written by George Bernard Shaw. Through Saturday, March 5. 7:30 p.m. tonight (Thursday), Friday, and Saturday. $17-$20. 303-442-1415 or
