In 19th century New England, "boston marriage" referred, according to sociological scribe Lillian Faderman, to "a long-term monogamous relationship between two otherwise unmarried women." Independent, often feminists, whether or not lesbians, they shared values and related primarily to women. To help preserve such a union with Claire, Anna has taken a "protector." In her newly-redecorated, rosy drawing room, she can rest on her chaise longue and, decked out in emeralds, declare herself "saved from poverty." Unfortunately, her cook is quitting due to an unrepaired stove; apparently the new "Scottish" maid Catherine is really Irish (thus presumably resentful of the English and remindful of their slower-to-develop civilization); and Claire announces she's in love. Not only has she invited the sweet young thing to Anna's house for an assignation, she wants Anna to entertain the chaperone!
If you think Anna is going to take that lying down or silently, you don't know author Mamet. Anna is as full of choice words about the situation as about propositions for her "participation" in the venture -- and Zoe Wanamaker could not be better in pulling off both.
Then comes a real twist in Anna's fortunes, bound up with the identity of Claire's would-be lover. What will become of all the romantic relationships? Will Catherine be sacked or do they need her for -- would you believe—a seance? How does a lawyer become involved? What happens to Anna's jewels? Are the women, as Claire contends, "all undone by men"? You can bet a bible there's plenty of subtext beneath Wanamaker's glibness and Anna Chancellor's aristocratic tone as Claire. Newcomer Lyndsey Marshall impresses mightily as ever changing Catherine. What a stitch chanting nonsense in front of the curtain! How fine a pianist, too, accompanies three grand performances.
