Alice Hauptmann is one of those commanding, complacent women who draw you close to make sure you keep your distance. Her surface warmth is so great that, even though you should know better, it’s a shock when you become aware of a core of ice within her that leaves you frostbitten. She’s supremely charming company and she’s scary as hell. It is probably a blessing that they don’t make them like her anymore.  But if you’re one of the lucky few whom she has summoned to tea this month at her Fifth Avenue maisonette near the Metropolitan Museum, I strongly urge you to accept. It’s highly unlikely that your paths will cross otherwise, since Mrs. Hauptmann doesn’t normally make herself so available.  Nor — and this is the real draw — does Zoe Caldwell, the great actress who is embodying her with such merciless detail in the Soho Rep’s site-specific production of David Adjmi’s “Elective Affinities,” which opened on Friday night in an Upper East Side apartment. (The address is given only to those with tickets, of which there are about 30 for each performance.)  Ms. Caldwell — who has won leading-actress Tony Awards for portraying three women of charismatic power (Jean Brodie, Medea and Maria Callas) — is one of the few performers alive who could make Mrs. Hauptmann as credible and fantastical as she must be. (Marian Seldes, to whom this play is dedicated and who was instrumental in its creation, is another.) It’s not just that she has the unassailably grand, old-school presence that Alice requires.  Now in her late 70s, Ms. Caldwell is also old enough and worldly enough to have come across some of the last of the real-life Alices, members of a vanishing social class who have never doubted their pedigrees or entitlement. And, boy, does Ms. Caldwell nail the type, while making Alice so intimately individual that you have the impression that you’ve been her reluctant but enthralled confidant for years. It’s only after the mere but full-feeling half-hour you’ve spent with her, when you’re on your way home to your shabby little digs, that you realize Alice is a full-blown allegory.  Theatergoers familiar with Mr. Adjmi’s earlier plays — aggressively stylized satires like “Stunning” and “The Evildoers” — are likely to anticipate the poisonous political pulse that animates this portrait of a lady, which runs through Dec. 18. But that doesn’t mean they won’t be disarmed by the flirtatious artistry of “Elective Affinities,” in both its writing and its performance.  Staged by Sarah Benson, who directed the landmark New York premiere of Sarah Kane’s truly shocking “Blasted” several years ago, this short, seductive monologue is descended from the socially conscious (and self-conscious) plays of Wallace Shawn (particularly “Aunt Dan and Lemon”) and the angry, quick-take dramas of the late-career Harold Pinter. Like them, “Elective Affinities” requests that we make ourselves at home in — and, by extension, complicit with — a world that turns out to be profoundly and irrevocably contaminated.  Ms. Benson’s production, though, takes an extra step in co-opting our attention and assistance by bringing us face to face with our hostess. The audience for “Elective Affinities” assembles in a stately receiving room, where tea and finger food is served, while a pianist discreetly plays Chopin next to an immense black abstract sculpture (made to order by Sebastian Reynolds), which will serve as the conversation starter for Alice’s little speech.  The tension that inevitably accompanies waiting — and waiting — for a grande dame’s arrival is amplified by the obvious unease of those who would appear to be in Mrs. Hauptmann’s employ, including a withering butler named Blake. Before we are ushered into the Presence, we hear something like the human equivalent of a leopard’s snarl from upstairs.  Yet when we first spot the source of that noise, as we ascend the stairs to the landing above, she is graciousness itself, wreathed in smiles and pearls. She has special words for some of us as we are shown into her drawing room: Don’t we look smart, she says. Are we comfortable sitting on that tiny ottoman? Have we tried the chocolates? Are we too warm or too chilly? (It seems, she says, that she’s always cold.)  Does she really give a damn about us? Of course not. But we’re there, and certain forms must be adhered to. So Alice says what she has to say, with throaty chuckles and entre-nous glances, in a deceptively rambling account of what and whom she likes, and why, the “elective affinities” of the title.  That’s really all there is to Mr. Adjmi’s play. But by degrees it reveals the awful, primal strength beneath the finesse of this elegant, aged woman. It is the strength that comes from knowing that she belongs to a tribe that rules, and if her particular tribe is under siege these days, well, she knows how to circle the wagons.  And does Alice feel that she has perhaps shown us too much of herself? No, no, no. She’s too confident — and too sure of the truth of what she’s saying — to feel vulnerable in being exposed. Those emotions are for little people like us.  Ms. Caldwell makes everything Alice does seem comme il faut — and that includes keeping a copy of Mr. Adjmi’s text in front of her. (Improvisation is always best when it’s scripted, she tells us.)  Even when Alice is noticeably frail or (less often) fearful, you don’t doubt the enduring, atavistic force of the woman. You leave chastened and perhaps tainted, but also elated. There are, after all, some rare and exclusive privileges that make you feel good instead of guilty. Watching Ms. Caldwell make us believe in Alice’s brute strength in defending her privileged life is one of them.  By David Adjmi; directed by Sarah Benson; performed by Zoe Caldwell; sets by Louisa Thompson; costumes by Susan Hilferty; lighting by Mark Barton; sound by Matt Tierney; production stage manager, Tom Taylor; production manager, Robert Saenz de Viteri; general manager, Snug Harbor Productions/Steven Chaikelson, Kendra Bator. Presented by Soho Rep, piece by piece productions and Rising Phoenix Repertory at an Upper East Side townhouse; (212) 352-3101; hauptmannresidence.com. Through Dec. 18. Running time: 1 hour.
“Elective Affinities,” a one-woman show with Zoe Caldwell, explores an aristocratic character with a warm demeanor and a chilly heart.