Once you get past the bravura chemistry that ignites the central performances of Mary Haney and Moya O'Connell, you stop and realize what a great play Mrs. Warren's Profession really is.

Not that you actually want to get past the Haney-O'Connell fireworks. This collision of two indomitable forces is something special to behold.

Haney, carrot-topped and powdered, embodies the eccentric fire of one of Toulouse-Lautrec's ferocious madams.

She storms the stage like a cat in heat, filled with feral energy, wicked to watch.

Moya O'Connell, similarly titian topped, but cooler in aspect, is in many ways Haney's equal.

She plays the love of Haney's life, a daughter cared for in absentia.

When these fierce forces meet centre stage it's like the white heat of a summer storm.

You may as well know right now Shaw's play avoids the ease of a happy ending. It offers instead an understanding of what it means to love and be loved at terrible personal cost.

Kitty Warren, born into Victorian poverty, has a desperate choice. She can work as a factory drudge, or a bar wench for pathetic wages. She'll be poor all her life. Or she can take advantage of her charm and good looks to fight back.

In an uncaring, hard world of men, she can offer something of value. Kitty Warren can buy herself a shade of outward respectability, as well as education for her daughter Vivie through the sex trade.

Though she seldom sees the child, having ensconced her in a protected rural life, Kitty arrives at a thatched cottage in Surrey, ready to claim her maternal place.

When it becomes apparent her wealth has been earned by prostitution and procuring, a terrible schism takes place. Hasn't she used young women in much the same way as all those men who exploit them in menial, poorly paid positions?

And how can she explain with all her wealth she continues to do so?

In the end, Shaw's play has something to do with the need for power, as well as the mistreatment of women.

In looking at the place women held in Victorian society, the old rascal was openly critical of capitalist exploitation of the labouring poor. He eviscerates marriage and the way it uses up women. "Until we sublimate the marriage relation, the difference between marriage and Mrs. Warren's profession remains the difference between union labour and scab labour."

No wonder the play ran afoul of British censors. Banned for years, it wasn't produced in the West End until 1926, 32 years after it was written.

Gritty, tough-talking plays tend to disturb the complacency of audiences looking for easy entertainment. That hasn't changed more than 80 years later. Some still gasped at Shaw Festival when salty revelations were made.

All the more reason then to celebrate director Jackie Maxwell's crisp, corrosive production of this riveting play.

As well as the thrill of watching Haney and O'Connell square-off against each other, fall hopelessly in love, then battle toward some final truth, there is the exquisite joy of a near perfect production surrounding them.

Benedict Campbell is suitably slimy as Sir George Crofts, a licentious old coot with an evil heart. Ric Reid is smarmy as Rev. Samuel Gardner, a sad husk of a man hiding in religion.

Andrew Bunker as Vivie's would-be lover and David Jansen as her likable friend are impeccable. Sue Lepage's moody settings and Kevin Lamotte's painterly lighting give the show a lovely period look.

Then there is director Jackie Maxwell's creative hand. Like Shaw himself she pulls all the right strings.

Of course, in the end, it all comes back to Haney and O'Connell, the most ferocious duo on stage this season. Go see them, but be prepared to have your heart shattered if you do.

Gary Smith has written on theatre and dance for The Hamilton Spectator for more than 25 years.

Showtime

What: Mrs. Warren's Profession

Where: Shaw Festival Theatre,

Niagara-on-the-Lake

When: Now through Nov. 1

Tickets: 1-800-511-7429