HART’s Laughter on the 23rd Floor a Loving Roman à clef By Tina Arth

Picture by Dawn Sellers shows Brandon Weaver, Jeff Brosy, and Steve 

Koeppen

Full disclosure time: prior to May 13, 2022, I did not know that “Roman à clef” meant “novel with a key.” Courtesy of Neil Simon, Google, and Meghan Daaboul’s directorial bucket list, I am now enlightened – and delighted to have been in the preview night audience for HART’s offering of Laughter on the 23rd Floor. Having been subjected to a few too many productions of The Odd Couple and Barefoot in the Park, I was a bit wary of another play by the prolific and awesomely talented, but sometimes predictable, Simon. However, this lightly novelized tragi-comic take gives an eye-opening perspective on a seminal period in the history of American television writing. With its frequent swipes at McCarthy (Joe, not Kevin) and the oppressive politics of an establishment eager to label anything out of the mainstream as communism, it is thoroughly entertaining and remarkably relevant.

 

Quick summary: it’s early 1953, and the play is set in the writer’s room of a New York based television variety show called “The Max Prince Show” (a paper thin disguise of Sid Caesar’s “Your Show of Shows”). A group of slightly mad writers collaborate on the sketches that form the backbone of the 1.5 hour show. Prince is a constant thorn in the side of the network, which wants to cut the show to one hour, cut the budget, and introduce a less sophisticated style of comedy that will sell better in Middle America – something that neither Prince nor his writers have any interest in doing. By the end of Act II, several months have passed, the network has won the battle (they do, after all, control the purse strings), and Prince decides to throw in the towel, leaving his writers unmoored and unemployed. Very little research makes “the key” of this particular Roman à clefvery clear – the characters represent such comic geniuses as Larry Gelbart (“Mash”), Carl Reiner (“The Dick Van Dyke Show” and so much more), Tony Webster (“Phil Silvers Show”), Mel Brooks (need I say more?), and even the playwright, Neil Simon (whose character, Lucas, acts as narrator).

Given the much larger-than-life characters who inhabited the real writer’s room, there is a very clear danger that Laughter on the 23d Floor could be an orgy of overacting and cheap imitation – but director Daaboul has neatly sidestepped this peril. Her actors all play their roles with varying degrees of looniness, but there is a fundamental restraint in their performances that underscores the reality behind the script. As Lucas (the narrator), Brandon Weaver is the closest thing to a straight man, and he gives us a clear idea of how Simon must have felt as the new kid on this particular writer’s block. Steve Koeppen (as the beret toting Milt) immediately introduces the theme of utter insanity, but calmly reveals the method in his madness when he clues Lucas into the comedic politics of catching Prince’s attention in a room full of whackos.

 

While there are truly no weak links in the cast, a few performances really take the show to the next level. I loved the narrow-eyed cynicism of Seth Wayne’s understated “Brian,” and Erin Bickler (as “Carol,” the only female writer) oozes with quiet resentment of the male-dominated culture of the group. For me, a real star turn comes from Michael Rouches (as Ira), a neurotic hypochondriac who playwright Simon openly based on Mel Brooks. I probably won’t have the opportunity to see the show again, but if I could it would be primarily to watch Rouches do his thing.

 

Costume coordinator Kelcey Weaver has done a spectacular job of dressing the eclectic cast in attire appropriate to both the period and the eccentricity of the characters. William Crawford’s set design is detailed and attractive, and (for me) a highlight of the show is the spectacular view of the New York skyline from the 23d floor window.

 

Portland area theaters will probably do a dozen or more Odd Couples before Laughter on the 23rd Floor reappears on a local stage, and courtesy of a Covid-related delay there’s only a two-week run, so tickets are going fast. Catch this little gem while you can!

 

Laughter on the 23rd Floor is playing at the HART Theatre, 185 SE Washington, Hillsboro through May 22nd, with performances Thursday, Friday and Saturday at 7:30 p.m. and Saturday and Sunday at 2:00 p.m.

Another Sweet Suite Surrender By Tina Arth

Jeff Gardner, Mary Reischmann, Amelia Michaels, Lura Longmire, Aaron 

Morrow, and Kraig Williams

I must admit I was having a hard time getting enthused about seeing Mask & Mirror’s latest offering, Suite Surrender. Michael McKeever’s classic WWII era farce about a pair of dueling divas is funny, well-written and lively, but I felt like there was nothing new in it for me – I’ve seen the show several times in the last decade, and have seen two key players fill lead roles, direct, or both in previous productions. What I did not anticipate was the extent to which some new cast members would refresh and enhance the experience for me – so much so that I would advise even the Suite Surrender jaded to consider seeing the show one more time.

 

First, a brief recap of the story: Claudia McFadden and Athena Sinclair are big Hollywood stars who have been playing benefit performances all over the country to raise money for the war effort. They are fiercely combative rivals whose well-publicized fights are a big draw for the public, and it is essential that they be kept apart, both on-stage and off. Due to an apparent mix-up, both women have been booked into the same elegant suite at the Palm Beach Royale Hotel, and the play revolves around the (ultimately unsuccessful) efforts by the hotel management, staff, and the stars’ secretaries to keep the women from discovering the error. 

 

The first time I saw Suite Surrender (in 2013) it was directed by Kraig Williams, who was also called upon to play the role of Mr. Pippet in several performances. Aaron Morrow, who played the role of hotel manager Mr. Dunlap in the 2013 production, is the director of the current Mask & Mirror production, and Williams is again playing Mr. Pippet. Continuing the déjà vu all over again nature of this play, due to an unforeseen injury, director Morrow finds himself reprising the role of Mr.Dunlap. As if all of that were not enough, I’m pretty sure the stuffed dog playing Mr. Boodles is a veteran of every Washington County Suite Surrender stage. Got that?

 

Those of you who saw the 2013 production (or an intervening offering from a few years ago) will know that both Morrow and Williams are physically and expressively quite perfect for the roles they play (Mr. Boodles, while anatomically ideal, lacks emotional depth)– enough said. My focus is on the newcomers – starting with Lura Longmire’s utterly commanding performance as Claudia McFadden. She is imperious, demanding, and very, very funny –and she absolutely nails the vocals (yes, there is singing!). Mary Reischmann’s extraordinarily egotistical and lascivious take on Athena Sinclair creates the perfect adversary – and Reischmann absolutely ROCKS the 1940s Hollywood-era dress she is wearing. 

 

Other star turns that demand mention include Laurie Monday, who is unbelievable as the befuddled and perennially wide-eyed Mrs. Osgood – definitely not to be missed. While he spends a significant amount of time out of sight and apparently unconscious, Steve Hotaling takes Otis to truly lofty heights of cluelessness and is a joy to watch. 

 

As always, Woody Woodbury’s set is exquisite, and captures the flavor of the time and place precisely.  Morrow has drawn strong performances from all of his cast members – my one complaint would be that in the opening scene characters seemed to be rushing their lines, which made it hard to follow the dialogue. Once the pacing settled down everything was sharp and clear. It’s not a long show, and there’s no need to hurry!

 

Mask & Mirror’s Suite Surrender runs Fridays and Saturdays at 7:30 pm and Sundays at 2:30 pm through May 22 at “The Stage” at Rise Church, 10445 SW Canterbury Lane, Tigard, 97224. 

The Comedy of Errors – Don’t Overthink It! By Tina Arth

 

Picture shows Ira Kortum, 
Karen Schlect, Brent McMorris, and Carl Dahlquist.

Dramaturgical analysis be damned – in my universe, sometimes a banana is just a banana, and a comedy is just a comedy. Canon Shakespeare Company’s current production of Shakespeare’s The Comedy of Errors (on stage at Twilight’s Performing Arts Theater) is a classic example of this principle. Any attempt to dwell on alienation, the meaning of identity, or the tragedy of families or neighboring duchies being torn apart by unwarranted disputes (yeah, that’s YOU I’m talking to, Mr. Putin) cheapens a play that is already, in many ways, quite cheap enough! Director Alec Henneberger and his cast deliver straight up slapstick farce that would probably make The Bard proud.

The play moves quickly, and is premised on an absurdly exaggerated set of coincidences that can leave unwary audience members scratching their heads, unless they are given a heads up. Here’s the set-up, with no pretense of brevity: Syracusan merchant Egeon and his wife had identical twin sons, both inexplicably named Antipholus. Shortly after the twins’ birth, Egeon purchased a pair of infants, twins Dromio and Dromio (seeing a pattern here?) as slaves for his sons. While on a sea voyage, the family (and boat, presumably) is torn apart by a fierce tempest; Egeon saves one son and slave but carelessly loses track of his wife, who saves the other pair of infants. Time passes, and now-adult Antipholus of Syracuse goes off in search of his missing brother. When Antipholus doesn’t return, Egeon sets out to look for him and finds himself in Ephesus. This is not good - Ephesus and Syracuse are at odds, and merchants from Syracuse are forbidden to enter Ephesus on pain of death. Egeon is captured and confined until he can come up with 1000 marks as ransom; hoping for mercy he tells his tragic tale of loss to the Duke of Ephesus. Coincidentally, Antipholus (of Syracuse) and Dromio (of Syracuse) have arrived in Ephesus, unaware that the missing brother and slave are actually Antipholus of Ephesus and Dromio of Ephesus. Neither the townspeople, the slaves, Adriana (wife of Antipholus of Ephesus), nor the two brothers are able to distinguish between the identical twins, and mistaken identities lead to a series of misunderstandings, beatings, seductions, and other tomfoolery for two acts leading to (surprise!) reconciliations all around.

In an interesting little twist, the role of the Duke is played each night by an audience member who is not given advance notice of their assignment, and who reads the Duke’s lines from a screen on stage. The rest of the parts are filled via more conventional casting protocols, with nine experienced actors filling the remaining fourteen roles. High points of a very lively, if occasionally chaotic preview night production include Stephanie Crowley’s gold merchant Angelo – by Act II, her crisp control of her increasing rage is truly memorable. Speaking of rage (if not control), Katy Deri’s frenetic take on Antipholus of Syracuse is definitely worth watching, although I found the decision to keep one of their shoes off for convenient slave-beating a bit distracting.  Despite a few mangled lines, Karen Schlect (as Antipholus of Ephesus’ wife Adriana) delivers an impressive dose of genuine emotion, unexpected and very welcome in a play where the general theme is over-the-top farce. 

Four stars to Ira Kortum, who spends an inordinate amount of time chained up as Egeon, stoically awaiting his doom (and generally messing with the audience) – when released from confinement he simply sparkles as the lovely and impatient maid, Luce. The rest of the cast (Genevieve Larson, Carl Dahlquist, Sean Christopher Franson, Kari Warfield, and Brent McMorris) all acquit themselves with high humor - I would especially like to see Warfield in a meatier role.

The Comedy of Errors will of course be fun for Shakespeare aficionados (who should all appreciate a little lowbrow humor). However, it is especially appropriate (with a minuscule amount of preparation) for people put off or intimidated by the Bard’s reputation for Important Drama - they will find this production to be extremely accessible and non-threatening. Now that most live local theater is opening up, hie yourself to North Portland for a couple of hours of entertainment – this is the last week of the run!

Canon Shakespeare Company’s The Comedy of Errors is playing at Twllight’s Performing Arts Theater, 7515 N. Brandon Avenue, Portland through Sunday, May 8^th with 8:00 PM performances on May 6/7 and 3:00 PM matiness May 7/8.