HART Theatre is back, roaring into the (somewhat) post-pandemic milieu with a nostalgic reprise. When HART moved into its current building in 2007, the first play staged was playwright Marc Camoletti’s broad French farce, Don’t Dress for Dinner, and the show was supposed to open March 20, 2020 as part of the Hillsboro company’s 25th season. As we all know, the advent of Covid-19 sent the theater world into two-year state of mostly suspended animation, and like many local stages HART is now picking up right where it left off – Don’t Dress for Dinner finally opened on March 18 to an enthusiastic audience who clearly felt that it was worth the wait!
First-time director Dawn Sellers has assembled a fine cast, including one veteran of the 2007 production – her husband Doug Sellers, who acted as both cheerleader and mentor as she tackled the challenging show. All six actors bring impressive resumes to the production, as do many members of the production team, and the result of Sellers’ direction and her support network is a charming play with great lighting, a clean and well-constructed set, period-appropriate costumes, and the comic timing, blocking, and restraint necessary for compelling farce.
For those of you who (like me) are not familiar with the play, a little background will help. Camoletti is best known for Boeing Boeing, which had a 7-year run in London starting in 1962 and has since become one of the defining farces of American professional and community theater. A sequel, Pyjama Pour Six, premiered in 1987, and was later adapted for English language audiences by Robin Hawdon as Don’t Dress for Dinner. The play retains its French setting, characters, and Gallic cultural themes – in particular, the stereotypical attitude toward marital fidelity or lack thereof. The action starts quickly: Bernard has orchestrated a scheme that will allow him to spend the weekend with his mistress, Suzanne, at his country home near Paris. Wife Jacqueline is preparing to visit her ailing mother, and Bernard’s friend Robert is coming to provide an “alibi” for Bernard’s weekend activities, including the importation of a Cordon Bleu chef (Suzette) to handle lavish meal preparation. When Suzanne learns that Robert is coming, she invents an excuse to stay home so she can spend time with him (Bernard does not know that Robert and Suzette are embroiled in a passionate affair). Bernard’s problem? How to explain Suzanne’s arrival to his wife. His solution? He tells Robert to pretend that Suzanne is his lover – something Robert is hesitant to do, since Suzanne will be upset that he is playing around with another woman. Robert reluctantly agrees, and plans to explain the scheme to Suzanne – but Suzette, the caterer, arrives first. Confused about the names, Robert enlists Suzette to play as his mistress. When Suzanne arrives, she is then cast into the role of caterer, despite her woeful inadequacy in the kitchen. Got that? If you need more, go see the show!
Each of the cast members shine in their own special way, but Doug Goodrum (Robert) really holds the show together. He is constantly tasked with explaining the unexplainable to other characters, a job complicated by the fact that he has to quickly adapt the story to fit each new arrival. He panics, stumbles over his words, and takes meaty pauses that are believably those of a befuddled sidekick (“you cooked a book?” is a frequent refrain), yet somehow keeps us clear on the tortuous path of farce. Doug Sellers is relegated to the thankless role of a straight man, creating a convincingly odious Bernard.
Sarah Kearney’s “Suzette” is the unsophisticated rube in the room, yet you can see in her eyes and hear in her delivery the wily peasant street smarts that allow her to profit mightily from her role in the deception, and she provides fearless physical comedy. Katie Prentiss (Suzanne) is appropriately lovely and convincingly clumsy and clueless as a chef – my front-row seat was startlingly close to the splash zone! As the betrayed and betraying Jacqueline, Kira Smolev moves seamlessly from loving wife and daughter to passionate lover, yielding to confusion and finally smoldering fury as she gradually figures out what’s actually happening. The final character, Suzette’s husband George, is a smaller role that provides less opportunity for actor John Knowles – but he provides the slightly dim and threatening, hardheaded bulk that the part requires.
I applaud Sellers’ choice to skip the French accents – it’s awkward, and they are after all portraying characters speaking their native language. However, I did miss a Gallic touch in the set dressing. Other than the two small (and obligatory) pictures of a cow and a pig, there were no décor elements that suggested a French country villa, and this made it harder to relate to the players and situation as being specifically French.
It’s been a tough couple of years for most of us, and there are still some pretty ominous winds blowing about. It’s a great time for a lively evening of comedy including lots of laugh out loud moments to give us a little respite from the stress and uncertainty of Covid, Putin, porch pirates, and a nationwide shortage of about 4,000,000 homes. HART’s Don’t Dress for Dinner is good medicine for the spirit with its complex story line full of uncomplicated fun.
Don’t Dress for Dinner is playing at the HART Theatre, 185 SE Washington, Hillsboro through Sunday, April 3, with performances Friday and Saturday at 7:30 p.m. and Sunday at 2:00 p.m.
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