Could this silly farce written by Henry Lewis, Jonathan Sayer, and Henry Shields from the English anarchic Mischief Theatre, be the best production ever produced by the august Christian-inspired A.D. Players? Yes, hot damn, I think so.
When the handsome manor set decomposes before our eyes, although it starts its wayward decay right from the beginning of The Play That Goes Wrong with the mantelpiece that won’t stay put, you understand these pros are at the top of their game.
Under whiplash timing, conducted like Toscanini by director Jayme McGhan, and a cast full of wonderful hams with deadpan seriousness, this comic satire of an improbable, convoluted Agatha Christie wanna-be crime mystery, The Murder at Haversham Manor, will leave you breathless in guffaws. Performed by the amateur Dramatic Society of Cornley University, Play is the most satisfying laugh fest in seasons.
There is no plot. What we watch is an actual performance of Murder by this group of incompetent actors. No, that’s way too charitable. They are not actors, but a mismatched rancid stew of egotists, amateurs, puffed-up starlets, absolute boobs, and stoned stagehands.
When the actress gets knocked unconscious by a flung-opened door – one of many such punches – she’s replaced without any thought by the closest backstage tech. The show must go on, you know. The actor playing dead has his hand stepped on twice before he moves it out of the way and then calmly walks out of the study by draping the stretcher over his head, which has broken when he’s picked up, as if he can’t be seen by the audience.
The elevator has a life of its own; two men carry on a sword fight even when the swords break, with the actors shouting “clang, clang,” and “swish” with each imagined thrust and parry. The spotlights never fall where they should, and the owner’s faithful retainer can’t remember his lines or constantly mispronounces things like cy-a-need-dee instead of cyanide. Doors won’t open or fall off their hinges, the grandfather clock remains at 6:30 although it’s referenced as midnight, the raging snowstorm is a pitiful handful of confetti thrown as the window drapes are pulled open, and Winston, the trained dog, has run away so the pitiful actor has to growl for him, pretending it’s at the end of the leash.
This is low-brow comedy of the highest caliber. There are spit takes, unfailing flubbed lines, stage directions that go awry in spectacular fashion, and paintings that inappropriately fall off the wall or props that are misplaced and confused with others. The physical comedy is exceptional and split-second, the very essence of this type of panto.
The cast is game – like a tasty Cornish pasty – and deserve praise: Kevin Crouch, Kevin Dean, Nick Farco, Philip Hays, Alyssa Marek, Gabriel Regojo, Josh Turner, Whitney Zangarine. They chew the scenery with relish. And what a set they get to gnaw on. Designer Torsten Louis has devised a geegaw world, a breakaway, collapsing house with a life of its own that knocks one senseless. His work is most impressive. Leah Smith’s costumes are tweedy and batty (those argyle socks are sublime); Isaiah Parnell’s sound design is spot-on, as is David Gipson’s lighting; and even Charly Topper’s properties take on comic life.
This is a first, I believe, for a Houston Press review, but the A.D. Players’ stagehands must be lauded for the ease and Broadway quality of theatrical prestidigitation they perform behind the scenes: Hannah E. Smith, Michael Mullins, Malcolm Nichols, Chad Arrington, and anyone else I’ve failed to mention who make this whirligig spin so effortlessly. They are stars, too.
The Play That Goes Wrong is radiantly stupid, frivolous, flighty, with no redeeming social value, and stupendously funny. Thank you, A.D. Players, for that.
The Play That Goes Wrong continues through May 14 at 7:30 p.m. Wednesday, May 3; 7:30 p.m. Thursdays; 8 p.m. Fridays; 2:30 p.m. and 8 p.m. Saturdays; and 2:30 p.m. Sundays at The George Theater, 5420 Westheimer Road. For more information, call 713-526-2721 or visit adplayers.org. $40.50 – $81.00.
This article appears in Jan 1 – Dec 31, 2023.
