“The show must go on” has gotten pushback in recent years.
Surely a pandemic is enough to stop a show? Or a concussion? In what other profession would workers injure themselves and be expected to keep working? But such labor rights considerations are far from mind in “The Play That Goes Wrong,” a high-energy, tightly constructed meta-theatrical farce playing at Geva Theatre through October 12.
The title tells all. This is a play of mistakes: misplaced props, forgotten lines, falling set pieces, a knocked-out actor. Created by British comedy trio Henry Lewis, Jonathan Sayer and Henry Shield, the show had robust runs in the West End and on Broadway after its initial premiere in 2012. The name might give away the joke, but this Geva co-production with Indiana Repertory Theater, directed by Benjamin Hanna (and the remount directed by cara hinh) is nevertheless full of surprises.
As with many farces, the show requires an extension of disbelief, beginning with the magician’s playground of a set (designed by Christopher and Justin Swader). It’s outrageous to believe the Cornley Drama Society, the amateur group performing the play-within-the-play, would have the budget for such an elaborate set. The decorations are lavish, with blue patterned wallpaper as busy as a color blindness test, a gaudy portrait of a spaniel dressed as a military official, a candelabra and a deer with antlers. Above the upper right hand corner of the stage is the study, located on a balcony with a worrisome lack of railings.
Even before the show begins, the set’s precariousness is evident. The stage manager (China Brickey) tries to fix the falling fireplace mantel, to no avail. It’s just a precursor for the chaos to come: a stuck door, falling decorations, a broken pillar. The accidents look alarmingly convincing, yet are orchestrated with such perfect timing that the actors’ safety is never in question.
The show begins with the front-of-house speech, given by the Cornley lighting and sound person (Nate Cheeseman), an amiably sardonic techie in a Misfit t-shirt and bandana with a penchant for Celine Dion, who can make even a list of donor names amusing. The Cornley director, who also plays the inspector (Eric Sharp), then comes out with a few introductory remarks, struggling to stay visible as a wildly incompetent spotlight keeps sliding out of his range. (This is no dig on the actual lighting design by Jason Lynch, which is silly and sharp.)
After much preamble, the play-within-the-play begins: “The Mystery at Haversham Manor,” a 1920s era Agatha Christie rip-off. On the night of an engagement party, the wealthy groom-to-be Charles (Rob Johansen) is found dead — made obvious by his tongue sticking out, even if the actor is still a bit fidgety — on the chaise lounge, bringing in a famous inspector to figure out whodunnit. Was it his fiancée, Florence (Natasia Lucia Reinhardt), who was having an affair with his brother, Cecil (Dominique Lawson)? His butler (Claire Wilcher) or his old friend (Brett Mutter)?
The ending is spoiled repeatedly by an actor who barges in with a revealing line far too early, but no matter. The murder plot is a mere backdrop to the central drama of the piece: watching a group of actors persevere despite each worst-case scenario. This leads to an encyclopedia of farcical tropes and slapstick gags, ranging from visual puns to spit takes (the stage gets quite moist at one point).
The cast has the unique challenge of playing mediocre actors playing flat characters, which they masterfully pull off with nuance and flair. A standout is the intentionally overdone performance by Lawson as the ham of a newbie actor playing Cecil, eager to milk his first lead for all its worth. Wilcher, as the understudy stepping in for the butler, is also delightful, consulting lines written on her hand and mispronouncing word after word. She and Groves have great chemistry; through eye contact alone, they commit to perspiring through whatever disaster has arisen. Theater is rarely more compelling than when you’re watching characters attempting to achieve something that seems impossible.
I’ll confess: I was skeptical walking into the theater. With democracy in shambles, would a night of intentional incompetence be an enjoyable escape? At its worst, slapstick and farce can be mean-spirited (i.e., laughing at someone for slipping on a banana peel). Refreshingly, while the opening night audience’s laughter was uproarious, it was at its loudest not during the mishaps, but when cheering on the creative solutions the actors devised to keep their play going. At a time when it feels like everything is going wrong, this show invites audiences to celebrate the little moments that — against all odds — go right.
For more info and tickets, visit gevatheatre.org/show/the-play-that-goes-wrong.
Simply awful.