Theatre in Review: Farcicals (59E59/Brits Off Broadway Festival)

	Elizabeth Boag and Sarah Stanley. Photo: Andrew Higgins

One of the best things about the Ayckbourn Ensemble, the trio of comedies now at 59E59, is the chance it offers to appreciate Alan Ayckbourn's immense talents as a director. This is especially true of Farcicals, a pair of one-act frolics that require -- and get -- absolute precision of execution. There is no tolerance for error in this kind of comedy; a millisecond's worth of error will annihilate a laugh. No one knows this better than Ayckbourn and he and his company provide a display of technique that is marvelous to behold.

Each act of Farcicals is a variant of a single situation featuring a pair of suburban married couples. In "Chloë with Love," the drab, birdlike matron Lottie is in a tizzy because she suspects her husband, Teddy, of straying from the marital nest. Penny, Lottie's tough-as nails best friend, decides that drastic action is needed. Armed with a wig and a slinky dress, she reinvents Lottie as Chloë, a mysterious sexpot of indeterminate national origin, and sics her on Teddy. Meanwhile, Teddy, aware that his resistance is crumbling, charges Reggie, Penny's husband, with the task of keeping him on the straight and narrow. With everyone working at cross-purposes, disaster is guaranteed, as cocktails on a summer afternoon descends into coitus interruptus, followed by an unseemly brawl.

The second act, "The Kidderminster Affair," rewinds the action to the starting point, then follows a different path. Once again, Lottie fears for her marriage, but this time she has good reason: Teddy has been having afternoon lovemaking sessions with Penny in a Travelodge located in the town of the play's title. Taking Penny's advice to be more of a flirt, Lottie, fortified by seven glasses of wine, makes an unseemly play for Reggie; at the same time, Penny and Teddy frantically try to keep the lid on as the details of their affair leak out.

With its barely credible impersonation plot and frantic sexual action, "Chloë with Love" is so broad that it comes close to the lowbrow knockabout farce of Ray Cooney (Run for Your Wife). "The Kidderminster Affair" is more sophisticated, relying as it does on innuendo-loaded dialogue laced with non-verbal euphemisms as everyone tries to avoid such trigger words as "Kidderminster" and "hotel." In any case, both pack so many hearty laughs that you'd be a fool not to go along for the ride. Ayckbourn's direction instantly establishes the right tone of artifice, and, thanks to four superbly gifted comic actors, each gag is delivered with the pinpoint timing required.

Elizabeth Boag is a treat as the formidable Penny, who runs her marriage according to the "high-voltage electric fence principle. If he tries to make a break, he knows he'll be fried." Trying to put the best possible spin on the disappointing Reggie, she tells Lottie, "With my men I like to look below the surface a bit -- in the hope there's something there." Boag makes hilariously clear that the search is fruitless. Sarah Stanley is delectable as Lottie, whether tottering around in high heels as Chloë, employing an accent that slides from one country to another, or, when ordered by Penny to make "sheep's eyes" at men, fixing Reggie with a stare that he describes as "like a stricken lamb." As Reggie and Teddy, Kim Wall and Bill Champion amusingly complain about the vapidity of their wives' conversation -- all the ladies care about are handbags, they assert -- before drifting off into a mightily empty exchange in which the word "good" is employed several dozen times. Wall amuses, whether trying to preserve the sanctity of his backyard ("It's like Sodom and Gomorrah over there," he says, shocked by his guests' behavior) or enacting -- repeatedly, to hilarious effect -- the same gag involving a hot barbecue and a bowl of trifle. Bill Champion is fine as Teddy, crazed with lust for Chloë and deeply embarrassed to be caught, literally, with his pants down.

Both plays work thanks to the author/director's profound understanding of the rules of farce. He begins each play on a relatively naturalistic note, turning the screw by degrees until suddenly the chain of events has become wildly, convulsively out of control. Nothing is overstressed -- even a final food fight between Penny and Lottie is executed with a slight air of detachment -- and, as is always the case with Ayckbourn, even the most absurd plots are grounded in solid psychology. Also, the production -- like the others, from the Stephen Joseph Theatre in Scarborough, UK -- looks great, thanks to Jan Bee Brown's patio setting, Tigger Johnson's sun-dappled lighting, and Julia Perry-Mook's costumes. (The transformation of Lottie into Chloë is vividly done, thanks to Perry-Mook's clothing choices.)

In its solid construction, logical plotting, and ability to deliver a laugh every 30 seconds or so, Farcicals is worthy of study by young playwrights interested in the farce form. Here, Ayckbourn delivers the essence of farce in concentrated doses, stripped of anything unnecessary. Furthermore, this production demonstrates how utterly farce relies on tiptop direction and action. "British sense of humor. Nothing like it," says Reggie. After seeing Farcicals, I think you'll be inclined to agree.--David Barbour