Candida

James’ father-in-law Burgess reveals himself totally devoted to business and profits, like James thinks he, himself, is to common and commoners’ good. (Brian Nemiroff is perfect as the sugary-starchy James; Reginald K. Robinson, Jr. may have a less-perfect British accent but scores as smugly self-satisfied Burgess.)

The men eagerly await the arrival, after a short absence, of Candida. Her sudden appearance delights. (Amanda Lynn Mullen exemplifies a typical Shavian attractive but substantial, somewhat manly woman, never to be confused with a Victorian harridan or shrinking violet.)

Candida resembles a portrait over the mantel of a strong Virgin Mother in a whirlwind surrounded by servant cherubs, a prop well matched in symbolic importance by a child’s chair in front of the fireplace. Candida no sooner takes over James and the room than young Eugene Marchbanks, who has been with her earlier and accompanied her home, enters.

With the departures of “Prossy” Garnett and Burgess arrives Candida’s dilemma. Obviously desirous of helping (mothering?) and flattered by the lovesick poet, will she leave her husband for him?

As the always curiously bent over Marchbanks, Benjamin Williamson must have been directed to whine and be weak at the knees. Director Andrei Malaev-Babel’s blocking also has him express anxiety by running across the room onto a sofa where he assumes the fetal position. Shaw’s concern, however, was not mainly with Freudian concepts but to apply them if appropriate to his characters in society, including the social institution of marriage.

A later scene of Candida alone with Marchbanks shows her feelings toward her present relationship and holding a phallic symbol, while turning — obviously bored -- away from his poetry reading. Unfortunately, the significance is somewhat obscured in the light of previous switching from realistic face-to-face talk among characters to speeches unrealistically directed to the audience.

Whatever one thinks of Shaw’s points of view, it’s good to hear them in literate language and about ideas and ideals. Without pretentious pauses and seemingly endless repetition of very limited concerns and of importance to few, Candida is a welcome relief from so much contemporary domestic drama.