Lizzie Moffatt and Devin Bell in Pride and Prejudice | Photos by Tatum Lee and Joy Campbell-Smith
The most ambitious of Wren Theatre’s productions to date, this new adaptation of Jane Austen’s novel, a classic dramedy of manners, penned by Ferron Delcy and Jesse McQueen, has such a solid aesthetic, is so teeming with rich, authentic performances, its missteps are especially frustrating. Pride and Prejudice, which clocks in at just over three hours, feels surprisingly buoyant and nimble, thanks to a shrewd script and director Tatum Lee’s dextrous pacing. Those fourth wall breaks though, hmmm—well, I’ll get to them.
As the central nemeses-to-lovers duo, Elizabeth Bennet and Mr. Darcy, Lizzie Moffatt and Devin Bell have ample chemistry to carry the wit and disdain of their charged, hostile dynamic through to their eventual, well-earned mutual respect and affection. Moffatt has such breezy self-assurance, it made me giddy to see her fly in the face of early 19th century social mores. Bell plays Darcy’s stiff, contemptuous demeanour with an almost pained resignation. He seems somehow agonized by the social conventions to which he subscribes. Drawn to, baffled and distressed by Moffatt’s defiance, his smugness reads as weirdly vulnerable.
My heart consistently went out to Jane, the most thoroughly good natured of the Bennet sisters, and Lizette Mynhardt is an endearing presence throughout. She has a way with this guileless role, always establishing compelling dimension where the too righteous vibes could so easily flatten her out. Her whole flirtation with Lucas Blakely’s Mr. Bingley, who is also exceptionally adorable here, is genuinely sweet.
As Lydia and Kitty, the youngest and wildest of the Bennet sisters, Marissa Rasmussen and Katelyn Doyle had some of the best comedic business. Drinking, obsessing over the attractive officers, turning almost every situation into a game, they are constantly subverting the decorum expected of young ladies in public and I just couldn’t get enough of them.
The performances, generally, are persuasive and fluctuate naturally between silly and poignant as the tonal needs of the story demand. A distinct outlier is Liam Cardinell’s portrayal of Mr. Collins, a clergyman and distant relative, as cartoonishly gay schtick. He is a flamboyant tear in the fabric of this otherwise earnest retelling. More irritating than the affected delivery, though, is a broadly comedic sound effect (part of Cardinell’s own sound design) of a whip-and-horse neigh that punctuates his each and every reference to Lady Catherine de Bourgh. It’s incongruous and the relentless repetition is insufferable. Even worse, this gag eventually culminates in a full-on moment of theatrical self-reference that felt cheap and alienating in the context of this production’s overall sincerity.
The one break from the story’s reality that actually worked quite well, even intensified the humour and dramatic weight, is a punchy series of F-bombs that Delcy and McQueen have slipped into the dialogue to emphasize when a situation has become particularly dire. Quick and sparing, these interjections into the narrative are suitably jarring without disrupting our immersion.
Another really sharp bit of contemporary theatrical innovation is a device Delcy, McQueen and Lee employ when Elizabeth is explaining to Jane the devious motivations of Caroline Bingley (a deliciously haughty portrait by McQueen herself). Setting the various characters up and moving them about as if they’re game pieces, it’s a playful and visually dynamic mode I think could have been employed more often.
Though I’m not fond of Cardinell’s performance (which isn’t entirely his fault, he’s been written and directed very differently from the other characters), I do quite like where this adaptation lands on queer joy at the end. I don’t want to fully spoil the specifics, but there is a sham marriage plot here devised as a cunning mechanism by which certain characters can live their best lives from within the restrictive social conventions of the time.
Director Lee also designed the gorgeous period costumes and stylized set. A massive wood-frame structure provides the vague outline of a house, with three windows suspended elegantly in front of a vast backdrop suggesting the sky in its various moods. This illuminated screen also creates beautiful silhouettes during scene transitions. She also does fine work maneuvering the large ensemble into reasonably natural yet stylish and evocative patterns. This production looks beautiful and moves gracefully, an impressive achievement on its own, but it also has significant depth of intension beyond these aesthetics.
I loved so much of this intelligent and heartfelt production. If there is a future in store for this adaptation, I do hope Delcy and McQueen reconsider the broad, meta-theatrical comedy. I really do believe it undermines this lovely, insightful retelling.
Pride and Prejudice
February 18 to 22, 2026
Randolph Theatre
(736 Bathurst Street)
3 hours, 15 minutes (with intermission)
Jennifer McEwen, Lizette Mynhardt & Lizzie Moffatt, Devin Bell in Pride and Prejudice | Photos by Tatum Lee and Joy Campbell-Smith