OUR BETTERS by W. Somerset Maugham (Shaw). At the Royal George Theatre (85 Queen), Niagara-on-the-Lake. Runs in rep to October 27. $24-$110. 1-800-511-7429, shawfest.com. Rating: NNNN
W. Somerset Maugham’s Our Betters puts a clever, stylish twist on the age-old theme of money not guaranteeing happiness.
The novelist’s little-known 1915 comedy-drama focuses on a group of American heiresses who have bought their way into European society, accumulating titles and prestige, if not love.
There’s Minnie (Laurie Paton), the Duchesse de Surennes, who’s divorced from her high-born French husband, and Flora (Catherine McGregor), the Princess della Cercola, who’s been abandoned by her Italian prince. Ruling over them all is Lady Pearl Grayston (Claire Jullien), a top London hostess who spends more time with a rich industrialist (Lorne Kennedy) than she does with her unseen husband.
Pearl’s sister Bessie (Julia Course), has been staying with her in London, where Bessie’s old American flame, the poor but handsome Fleming (Wade Bogert-O’Brien), has suddenly arrived. It’s understood that the younger woman will eventually marry Lord Bleane (Ben Sanders), although it’s obvious the poor but charming Englishman merely wants her fortune.
A sexual indiscretion here and a bit of bittersweet advice there and soon the engagement is in jeopardy, to the chagrin of the ultra-controlling Pearl.
It’s wildly entertaining stuff – no coincidence the Shaw Festival has been comparing the play to high-toned TV soap Downton Abbey. Morris Panych’s direction brings out the work’s wit and style (echoed in Ken MacDonald’s handsome sets), but doesn’t ignore its dark underside.
A touching scene between Fleming and Flora shows the emotional cost of social climbing, and the full scale of Pearl’s efforts is revealed in the third act with some laughs but also shocks.
Pearl will stop at nothing to get what she wants, and Jullien is up for each one of the role’s challenges, from faux modesty and subtle seducing to, in the end, pragmatic bluntness.
The rest of the cast is equally fine. If Paton occasionally goes over the top with her campy pronouncements, remember that her character is a vain, aging and frightened woman who loves to hear herself talk.
Also excellent is Neil Barclay as Thornton Clay, a seemingly asexual Southerner who knows the score. Barclay’s delivery of Clay’s monologue about how he broke into society is a little play in itself, and he provides one of the biggest laughs in the third act with a recreation of a particularly tense scene.
