It is clear to see why George Bernard Shaw’s 1893 play was banned by the Lord Chamberlain. It argues the economic case for prostitution, has a plotline of potential incest and makes analogies between sex work and marriage that would doubtless have shocked Victorian society.
The moral argument around Mrs Warren’s profession – the world’s oldest trade – is played out in its central relationship. Here that is played by mother-daughter duo Caroline Quentin (as Kitty Warren) and Rose Quentin (as her disapproving, Cambridge-educated daughter, Vivie).
Under the direction of Anthony Banks, they bring an interesting dynamic to the stage but the mother overshadows the daughter in more ways than one. Caroline Quentin is bewitching as the complex, sometimes manipulative madam, commanding all our attention. Rose Quentin has a straighter, flatter part to play but even so does not give the final, emotionally potent scene its due force. The production feels uneven as a whole, its pace glacial at the start and oddly anticlimactic at the end, with a hit and miss feel to the parts of the men who circle around these two characters.
It is easy on the eye though with elegant period backdrops of Surrey overset by large expanses of sky and smart London offices (designed by David Woodhead). It is transposed to the 1920s, which fits well with the play’s focus on the rise of the independent woman but Shaw’s language occasionally sounds too stiff in this context.
While creaky as a play in some respects, it still leaves us uncomfortable. Having entered prostitution to escape poverty, Kitty argues her case compellingly to Vivie. But she is now running a Europe-wide trade with an aristocratic business partner in Sir George Crofts (Simon Shepherd). While Kitty and Crofts are figures of their time, there are queasy associations with modern-day trafficking rings as Vivie speaks of the women lured into her mother’s business.
The mother-daughter showdown at the end is powered by Caroline Quentin’s fine performance and she leaves us feeling sorry for the play’s flawed mother, in spite of ourselves.
At Theatre Royal Bath until 19 November. Then touring.
