Naughty, naughty. Between 1753 and 1924, William Wycherley’s The Country Wife was considered so depraved that it was performed only in severely bowdlerised versions.

The country wife is Margery Pinchwife (played gleefully in the Globe’s production by Natalie Milne), brought to town by her jealous bumpkin husband (Campbell Thomson). Pinchwife hopes his young wife will not be infected by London society’s affectation, pretension and hypocrisy. HIs extreme attention to this matter only ensures that his efforts are self-defeating, for Margery, eager for intrigue, proves a quick and enthusiastic learner.

Unlike Margery, her sister-in-law Alithea (Laura Wells) is tired of artifice, and wants to get out of marrying the foppish Sparkish (Vincent Batt) so she can find uncomplicated happiness with true-love Harcourt (Connor Blackie), but paradoxically this takes a lot of scheming and subterfuge. Meanwhile the notorious Horner (Bill Needs), whose main occupation is cuckolding, spreads a rumour about himself which, as all the ladies somehow know, isn’t true.

The play has all the hallmarks of Restoration comedy: tangled sub-plots, convoluted contrivances, reversals, hasty entrances and exits, barely concealed identities. It’s crammed with double-entendres, which often sail right over the heads of other characters to be picked up and enjoyed by the audience – notably in the "china" scene where Lady Fidget (Terry McTavish) and Horner are supposedly admiring porcelain but are actually doing something quite different.

The Country Wife‘s stinging satire perhaps resonates less today, but it’s all enormously entertaining. One of the play’s great assets is its mix of wonderful characters, and, under the direction of David Corballis, a very talented cast make the most of every comic possibility. Elaborately detailed costumes by Rachael McCann help to make the production a visual feast and an exuberantly, shamelessly bawdy mid-winter treat. 
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Midwinter revels in Dunedin, begun with an impressive lantern procession in the Octagon, continue in the Globe’s lively production of a Restoration favourite, dating from London’s winter season in 1675.

While our men may struggle with the degree of feminization required by the highly mannered style of the period, the women seem to relish the necessity of portraying sexual aggression in peacock (rather than peahen) fashion: all quivering intensity, with sharp beak downplayed in scenes that purport to be all about display.

The country wife brought to town of course knows nothing of its mores or ‘manners’ – not good but bad manners in this case – nor of the manipulation necessary for society ladies to serve their desires while keeping their honour (that is, their marriages, let alone hairdos) intact. Natalie Milne as Margery Pinchwife gives a delicious performance of the innocent who’s strayed onto the set of a Fellini film and follows her own heart instead of some invisible writer’s script. Her jealous husband, just as limited but not quite as lovable, is played with vigour (if overmuch bluster) by Campbell Thompson, who doesn’t have too much trouble with Restoration style as he, like her, is meant to provide the unpretentious contrast.

Romantic leads Horner and Harcourt (Bill Needs and Connor Blackie) do best in the stylish stakes. Needs, however, teeters on the edge of Kiwi normality at times with an unforced heartiness and warmth breaking through. He can be forgiven his dashing (nearly-too-strong) stride; pace is essential in a play already condensed so as not to be too long. Connor Blackie’s Harcourt does not stride but stands about simpering: the least attractive behaviour in a male, perhaps, but the stuff of lace-coated lewdness in parlours brocade-lined. It makes him – by contrast – the more convincing when in his suit to Alithea he cuts to the point and speaks dangerously plain.

Bluster, however, sometimes gets the better of Vincent Batts as Sparkish, Alithea’s fiancé. The guy is stupid, certainly, but too far over the top and he presents as insane. Full marks, nonetheless, for any male who can carry off an icecream-wrapping of a costume topped by blond permed wig with ribbons and bows.

Even in this company the women out-peacock the cocks, particularly Terry MacTavish as Lady Fidget, going after Horner as the beagles follow the horn in a hunt (and yes, the names are apt). Restless with lust, she puts all her energy into pretending she’s not, and other high-born ladies – a whole pack of them suggested by this representative trio – do the same. The joke that Horner is rumoured to have been eunuched in France enables them all to beat a path to his door.

The country wife lands up there too, not having heard the rumour, but believing the town’s talking-point fell in love with her on her first theatre outing. Plays within plays. The comedy’s most famous act is the "china scene", in which Lady Fidget (MacTavish at her outrageous best) is drawn into Horner’s inner-room to see not his etchings but his antique porcelain, unaware that their version of "our little secret" – that he is not in fact neutered – is shared by her friends.

While others – including a more than usually outspoken maid and a pantomimic Old Lady Squeamish – also have show-stealing moments, the limelight is justifiably awarded to Laura Wells as Alithea. Her beauty shines out, not because of the polish put upon it but because of an integrity otherwise hard to find in this context of curly-wigged artifice, witty circumlocution and downright intrigue.
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