It is very seldom that the direction of a theatrical performance is so very brilliant, so perfect that it shines through the individual characterizations and through the play itself. Such was the case last night at the Colonial, where the skillful hand of Director Peter Ashmore was even more prominent than the oh-so Shavian phrases of G.. B. Shaw and the excellences of the acting. Mr. Ashmore showed himself to be a master of style, to have a fine sense of movement, and to understand completely and sympathetically the temperament of the piece and the period with which he was involved.

Not that the direction was all. The players were uniformly good, with a few of their performances among the best of this season. Faith Brook, in the part of Gloria, the strong-willed daughter whose scientifically developed resistance to the opposite sex bends alarmingly under pressure, displayed astonishing maturity of style, resonance of voice, and sharpness of diction. Style was her real perfection: she resembled in that department Miss Pamela Brown of last year's "Importance of Being Ernest," only with more real finish and sublety to her characterization than the latter had.

Leo G. Carroll, headliner of the production, played the part of the Waiter-a typical Shavian member of the lower classes, who knows his place in society and is anxious to guard its importance. Tom Holmore was superbly British as Valentine, superbly 'supermanish' as the male of intellect powerless in the tentacles of his corresponding female's life force. Pat Kirkland was nicely vivacious, if slightly more American than the rest of the cast, as the younger daughter, Dolly. Her youthful brother, Philip, was played with a nice combination of exhuberance and English stage presence by Nigel Stock.

Perhaps the two least good performances were those of Ralph Forbes and Frieda Inescort as Mr. and Mrs. Crampton-Clandon. Miss Inescort was so overshadowed by Miss Brook, as her daughter, that the moral force of her character never became quite so overwhelming as it should have. Forbes' portrayal of the blustering father was understanding, but at times slightly forced. In smaller character parts Walter Hudd was entertainly fusty as McComas, and William Devlin added a real touch to the last act with his Jovian portrayal of the positive ("You will, you don't think you will, but you will") Mr. Bohun. Scott Douglas played a nice maid.

The direction and acting aside-and sets and costumes were top-notch, too-the question of the play itself arises. As an early bit of Shaw it might be considered a preliminary study for "Man and Superman," except that, although it treats the same subject a large part of the time, with the same philosophy, it does not restrict itself to the specific point of the Man of Moral Passion being caught by the life force. "You Never Can Tell" gets off some heavy fire at the actual process of courtship that the later masterpiece disregards, and it also expresses some wise sentiments about the out-of-dateness of last year's radicalism.

There is no denying, however, that certain sections of the play seem somewhat antique. The first act in particular, with part of the second, provokes only a mild and intellectual laughter which leaves on feeling rather distant. Later on things warm up, and the witticisms and the fine, original characters spread richly about make the play definitely worthwhile. In this superlative production it certainly ought not to be missed.