American audiences simply can’t get enough of Edith Wharton’s 1920 Pulitzer Prize-winning novel, The Age of Innocence. Since 1924, this evergreen tale of forbidden love against the backdrop of stifling societal norms has been adapted for screen, radio, and stage, with the title roles played by legendary actresses from Irene Dunn to Michelle Pfeiffer. Wharton’s beloved story has been reimagined yet again by Karen Zacarías in an ambitious new staging directed by Hana S. Sharif at Arena Stage.
Zacarías resurrects Wharton’s depiction of New York’s upper class in the 1870s, followers of a playbook of social behavior that was as exacting as it was cruel. Some of the players delighted in its intricacies while others lived their lives in blissful conformity, unaware of the glass bubble in which they dwelled. A very few yearned to break out and live more authentic lives. Fewer still succeeded in doing so.
The story focuses on Newland Archer (A.J. Shively), an up-and-coming young lawyer who is set to wed the charming and attractive May Welland (Delphi Borich). May is truly a creation of her class — obedient and seemingly vacuous. All is well until Newland becomes mesmerized by his bride-to-be’s cousin, Countess Ellen Olenska (Shereen Ahmed), a beautiful and sensuous woman who has made a disastrous marriage to a brutish European nobleman. Returning to New York to escape him, Ellen is greeted with a fluctuating mix of sympathy and misogyny. The action, played out among the rituals and social mores of New York’s wealthy families, jeopardizes Archer’s society marriage and nearly suffocates him emotionally.
Arena’s four-sided Fichandler theater offers stunning possibilities for a world that is literally closing in on its main characters. Set designer Tim Mackabee summons New York’s society to the old Academy of Music with four gilded boxes that thrust out from each corner of the stage. As the opera progresses (mutely!), the genteel boxholders use their opera glasses only to spy on one another. They are shocked to see the Countess seated with her family. It’s one thing to welcome her back and quite another to parade her out in society. From the very start, we glimpse the invisible barriers that govern the characters’ lives.
An elevator center stage rises and falls, each time ushering us into an elaborate dinner party or a plush drawing room. We travel from New York to the Gilded Age’s watering holes in St. Augustine and Newport in a few deft moves of overstuffed daybeds and cut-glass lamps.
Yet the technological wizardry of this production seems at times to overwhelm character development. The complex relationship between Archer and May is never fully fleshed out, nor does the attraction between Archer and Ellen feel particularly intense. Without these emotional wallops, the ending feels abrupt and hollow rather than the culmination of inexorable social forces. Nonetheless, both women, each in their own way, shatter Newland. Ellen accomplishes this by withdrawal, and May, by attachment.
Despite this weakness, there is much else to commend in the Arena production. Anna Theoni DiGiovanni (playing Janey Archer and others), Paolo Montalban (as Julius Beaufort and others), Anthony Newfield (as Sillerton Jackson and others), and the rest of the cast add well-sketched portrayals to the production. With little to distract them from dressing, dining, partying, and gossiping about one another, they provide vivid portraits of the Gilded Age. Felicia Curry’s star turn as the Narrator weaves the story together with wry observations. A worthy vehicle for Wharton’s gorgeous prose, Curry also folds herself neatly in and out of the action as Ellen and May’s Granny Mingott, the ironic and all-knowing social priestess with a heart of gold. Curry has the most fun of anyone with these meaty, pivotal roles.
Fabio Toblini’s period costumes are richly layered and exquisitely tailored. Most are crafted from neutral fabrics: rich browns, creamy whites, beiges, and subdued shades of mauve. Against these limited shades of propriety, the unconventional Ellen stands out in her gorgeous jewel tones — ruby red and emerald green.
Edith Wharton once said, “Life is always a tightrope or a feather bed. Give me the tightrope.” The Age of Innocence deftly explores the tightropes each of its characters must tread. They are all just a scandal away from falling off into a social abyss from which they can’t recover. Perhaps it’s that eternal tension, the emotional jigging going on just under mannered façades, that makes The Age of Innocence resonate with viewers more than a century after it was written.
Running Time: Three hours with one 15-minute intermission.
The Age of Innocence plays through March 30, 2025, in the Fichandler Stage at Arena Stage, 1101 Sixth St SW, Washington, DC. Tickets ($59–$99) are available at the box office two hours before a performance, by phone at 202-488-3300, or online. Arena Stage’s many savings programs include “pay your age” tickets for those aged 35 and under; military, first responder, and educator discounts; student discounts; and “Southwest Nights” for those living and working in the District’s Southwest neighborhood. To learn more, visit arenastage.org/savings-
The program for The Age of Innocence is downloadable here.
COVID Safety: Arena Stage recommends but does not require that patrons wear facial masks in theaters except in designated mask-required performance (Tuesday, March 11, at 7:30 p.m). For up-to-date information, visit arenastage.org/safety.
SEE ALSO:
Arena Stage announces cast and creative team for ‘The Age of Innocence’ (news story, February 3, 2025)