While Clive is no angel, Mani makes him generally a likable sort. He made peace with his abandonment long ago. When he says things like, "Her soul is as thickly rouged as her face" (of Kitty), it seems more pitying than bitter.
Tracy Michelle Arnold, as Lady Kitty, is not terribly sympathetic, though I don't suppose she's meant to be. When she arrives at the stately home -- where she'll see her ex-husband and son for the first time in thirty years -- she's prattling, self-absorbed and gaudy. Worst of all, she doesn't even recognize her own son, who was only five when she left the family.
It's Susan Shunk, as Arnold's 25-year-old wife, Elizabeth, who has the gravest choice to make. Should she stay in a respectable but passionless marriage to Arnold, or imitate her mother-in-law and run off with the man she really loves?
While there are thorny moral questions here, I found Elizabeth a little tiring at times. She exists in a cocoon of privilege; though she may talk a good game about getting a job if necessary, we know she doesn't mean it.
Paul Hurley (as Arnold) provides some welcome ambiguity: does he fear the breakup of his marriage because he truly loves Elizabeth, or because he dreads the disruption of his life's plan?
In the end, while audiences may not relate to the world of post-World War I privilege in The Circle, the questions posed by the play remain relevant. Beneath the trappings of elegant '20s frocks and fine furniture, essential struggles about happiness, duty and love play out.