"That's what I like about Shaw--he solves all the mysteries in the first act." This gospel according to a self-styled critic sitting behind this reviewer misses an essential truth about George Bernard Shaw: there is never meant to be a mystery in his plays. In the Lyric Stage's production of You Never Can Tell, the expected surprises and impossible coincidences are an integral part of the whole plot.

You Never Can Tell

dir. Polly Hogan

at the Lyric Stage

Through March 15

This obscure Shaw gem depicts "life in an English seaside resort" in the year 1896 and what happens when an impoverished dentist falls in love with the daughter of a feminist. When you learn that the feminist also has a pair of impertinent, over-cheerful, hyperactive twins, as well as a husband who is missing (though not for long), you realize that the stage has been set for comedy in the very best style of Shaw.

Shaw contrives this plot to emphasize the richness of his characters, who flaunt themselves shamelessly in the attempt to cope with the fin-de-siecle.

Jeremiah Kissel, with his awe-inspiring sideburns and jutting jaw, makes and impressive Crampton, the dentist's landlord and the feminist's long-lost husband. The image of a man unable to handle change, he is belligerently ill-at-ease in an era where the whip can no longer be used to sort out family disputes. Unfortunately, Kissel is a little less convincing when he drops his chronic grumbling in favor of a sentimental attitude.

The amorous dentist and his sweetheart, Gloria, are entrancing in their vivid representation of the absurdities of love, liking and all the intermediate emotions. Chloe Leamon, however, was perhaps not an ideal choice for the part of Gloria. Leamon is entirely credible as a woman contemptuous of passion, but she fails to portray adequately Gloria's descent from feminism to femininity.

Her seducer, appropriately named Valentine, is played by James L. Walker. An ineffective "ivory-snatcher" (Phil Clandon's doubtful euphemism for a dentist) but a practiced man of the world, Walker radiates dashing vigor. It is a pity that he allows his cultivated accent to slip for a moment, in the third act, into an abominable twang.

Director Polly Hogan places Phil and Dolly Clandon, the feminist's talkative twins, firmly centerstage. Irritating and loud, the twins, played by Brian Kleppe and Karen Woodward, ask to be spanked. They are a perfect foil for their sister Gloria's austere, elegant superiority. These three siblings, together with their imperious mother, are so overpowering that one is inclined to agree whole-heartedly with Crampton: "this family is no place for a father."

Mrs. Clandon, played by Gay Swirsky in a furtrimmed hat, is a well-preserved woman determined in her espousal of "twentieth century principles." She stridently avows her support of women's rights to vote, own property and read Darwin.

The minor characters rarely remain in the background. An example is Ron Ritchell, as Walter the Waiter, sporting the imposing convex shirt front and the respectful familiarity of a family butler.

The set complements the characters without obscuring them. Nicole Gertrud Peskin's set design is an effective, not-too-ambitious late Victorian concoction of opulent brocade upholstery, polished parquet and lace curtains.

Shaw's inimitable one-liners add a lot to You Never Can Tell. Such moments more than make up for Shaw's occasional ranting monologues on feminism, the evils of family life and, of course, socialism.

Orthodontic issues provide an unusual background of symbolism for this play. For example, when Crampton, who cracks nuts with his jaws and rinses his mouth out with plain yellow soap, needs to have a tooth extracted, this incident seems like a prophesy of his impending castration as the paterfamilias of the Clandon household--but concluding that may be taking Freudian fetishism too far.

Above all, You Never Can Tell rejoices in the delights of the improbable actually happening. Shaw manages to "stretch the long arm of coincidence" without stretching our credulity too far. The play should be great entertainment, as long as you keep the creed of Walter the Waiter in mind: "It's the unexpected that always happens--you never can tell."