Review: Quality Street (Finborough Theatre)

J.M. Barrie’s 1901 pre-Peter Pan romantic comedy invites a host of confectionary-related metaphors in this appealing production by Louise Hill, who recently directed Barrie’s What Every Woman Knows at the Finborough.

Quality Street enjoyed great success in London following on from its Broadway debut in 1902 and a film starring Katharine Hepburn was made in 1937, but hasn’t been seen on the British stage since 1946. In many ways, it is a gossamer thin piece that flirts with some ideas about the ‘Woman Question’ and ties everything up neatly with a rapturously romantic conclusion- which under the circumstances is exactly as it should be. 

Like Barrie’s most famous creation Peter Pan, Quality Street has a distinct air of whimsy and childlike innocence about it, but unlike Peter who makes a point of never growing up, it celebrates the process of growing into maturity. It is the stalwart heroine who is rewarded for her patience and is loved for the woman she has grown into, rather than the silly, giggling coquette she assumes that men want.

The play is set amongst a community run by widows and spinsters during the Napoleonic Wars of the early nineteenth century, the conflict that Jane Austen notably (or notoriously, depending on your perspective) never mentioned in her novels. Barrie’s writing has some Austen-esque observations, and the sister relationship, to me, provides the play’s real heart. Confirmed old maid Susan Throssel’s (Daisy Ashford) devotion to her younger sister Phoebe and determination for her to have the things that she was deprived of is gently touching.

This is a society not dissimilar from Elizabeth Gaskell’s Cranford, filled with knitting, tea and cards, where the arrival of a man- particularly a young handsome one like Mr Valentine Brown (James Russell) whom everyone expects to propose to Miss Phoebe Throssel (Claire Redcliffe) is the source of much excitement and speculation. His exciting news is that he is about to enlist in the army, leaving Phoebe heartbroken and she voluntarily enters premature spinsterhood. She and her sister have also lost their money through an investment recommended to them by Valentine, forcing them to earn their own living by starting a school for genteel children in their parlour, which they are ill qualified to run.

Phoebe’s response when Valentine returns from the wars (minus one hand) is to masquerade as her imaginary niece ‘Livvy’ and becomes the most sought after belle in local society. The extraordinary thing about her transformation is that it is believable that she wouldn’t be recognised. It isn’t just the physical embellishments, but the way in which her entire manner changes. Valentine Brown is dashing but tactless, an entirely clueless young man who never goes through the jolt of self awareness that convinces the audience that he is entirely worthy of Phoebe.

The production values are remarkably lavish but tasteful. Alex Marker’s elegant and airy blue and white set (beautifully lit by Phil Bentley) and the stylish Regency costumes (by Mike Lees) ensure that this fanciful confection is dressed up to its best advantage.

Louise Hill directs with great charm and sympathy and a light touch. Although I would have liked a little more insight into Barrie’s views about the changing roles of women in society, rather like comparing Georgette Heyer with Jane Austen, it’s a piece that’s best enjoyed for what it is, rather than what it isn’t.