It is a truth universally acknowledged that a single man in possession of a good fortune must be in want of a wife. That may or mayn’t be so, as Jane Austen—back in 1813—had a tendency to lace her carefully observed truths in layers of irony. It is safe to say, though, 200-odd years on, that it is a most definitely acknowledged truth that modern-day entertainment makers in want of a good fortune can and do seek it by foraging through Austen’s delectable treasury of characters and plots. Pride & Prejudice comes back, again and again, usually retaining its charms so long as the present purveyors stick to the basics. As they do in the current production imported from the Guildford Shakespeare Company, as part of the 2025 Brits Off Broadway series at 59E59.
When dealing with Austen, it is wise to let the author herself do the talking. That is very much the case in the adaptation formulated by Abigail Pickard Price, in collaboration with Guildford Shakespeare’s producers/co-founders Sarah Gobran and Matt Pinches. How best to distill a three-volume, 60-odd chapter novel in which every word and phrase is especially well turned? By concentrating on the dialogue, pruned and distilled but undiminished, and by overlaying a cloak of bemused theatricality.
For this is a feast for three—count ’em—three actors. If this sounds impracticably abbreviated at first, it almost immediately holds our attention; consider Austen’s own opening dialogue, with Mrs. Bennet (“a woman of mean understanding, little information and uncertain temper”) explaining to her sensible husband how that aforementioned single man with fortune must be maneuvered into a match with one of her daughters. Mrs. Bennet (played by co-author Gobran) is as overbearing as ever; the long-suffering Mr. Bennet is wryly portrayed by Luke Barton; and then along comes Lizzy (April Hughes), surely one of the great characters and deftest speakers in English literature. Within moments, we are off to the assembly ball, where Lizzy and sister Jane (Gobran) encounter the gentlemanly Bingley (Hughes, slipping into a black jacket) and the haughtily proud Darcy (Barton in a dress coat). Charlotte Lucas (Gobran) and Caroline Bingley (Gobran) chime in, soon followed by those troublesome sisters Kitty (Hughes) and Lydia (Barton) and—well, you can see how director/adaptor Price and her onstage trio spin plates to keep the conceit afloat, always remaining true to Austen. Who, but the way, died at the age of 41 in 1817, when that other great 19th century British novelist Charles Dickens was a mere lad of 5.
Before we have time to wonder just how this can possibly play out, on comes that infuriatingly obsequious clergyman Mr. Collins, proposing marriage to Lizzy because—well, why not? It is at this point that the secret weapon of the evening is revealed. Barton is not necessarily the most versatile performer in the troupe, but he seems to have gone into the rehearsal room when this production was created, back in February 2024, and walked out with all the flashiest assignments. Darcy, of course, and Mr. Bennet and Collins, one droller than the other; but also wicked Wickham and—with the addition of a hair ribbon and a mere snap of the neck, Lizzy’s flirtatious sister, Lydia. When Barton is placed in a dress as the regal Lady Catherine de Bourgh—a ridiculously bald transformation capped by the addition of a tiara, no less—well, the audience can’t help but surrender. And expectantly await Lady Catherine’s further appearances, too.
Gobran, as well, doubles and triples and quadruples. Her overall performance is somewhat overwhelmed by the exaggerated Mrs. Bennet, of whom there might be just a bit too much; but she is lovely as the plain-yet-sensible Charlotte and most helpful as Mrs. Gardiner. Hughes only gets to play two roles, mostly; Lizzy is so central to Pride & Prejudice that you never quite want her to leave the premises. And no, having Lizzy double as Bingham is not a comfortable fit.
Key to the evening’s enchantment is the work of movement director Amy Lawrence. This production is all about movement; not merely in the occasional dance sequences—the gentlefolk of Netherfield were a dancing crowd—but in the meticulously conceived character changes. Designer Neil Irish provides an array of abbreviated costume pieces, which not only quickly define the characters but enable the hard-working actors to instantaneously shift gears. The costume pieces, the use of limited but defining props, and the dizzying array of characters who drift in and out—all of it meticulously paced by Lawrence—turn the piece into a feast of theatricality. (Irish’s spare scenery is simplistically functional, although he makes effective use of framed “paintings”; and sound designer Matt Eaton provides suitable period music as required.)
Most important, though, is that these visitors from Guilford never lose sight of the main event—which is Austen’s tortured but inevitable pairing of Lizzy and Darcy. As if that isn’t enough, stick around for the curtain calls, with 17 or 20 characters taking separate bows altogether at once. Talk about intricate choreography.
While the Guildford production is only in New York on a short visit, regional and university theaters might be wise to consider tracking down the rights. While staging this pint-sized adaptation is surely not as breezily easy an undertaking as it seems in performance, Price’s Pride & Prejudice has the potential to be a major crowd-pleaser.
Pride and Prejudice opened June 4, 2025, at 59E59 and runs through June 29. Tickets and information: 59e59.org
