What: One Man, Two Guvnors
Where: Langham Court Theatre
When: To Feb. 4
Rating: four (out of five)
If you’re in need of frothy escapist fun — and aren’t we all in this brave new age? — a new show at Langham Court Theatre might be just the ticket.
Not since the 2012 production of The Drowsy Chaperone (also directed by Roger Carr) have we seen such an exhilarating comedy at this historic Rockland theatre. One Man, Two Guvnors is a fluffy meringue that combines Benny Hill, Monty Python and the good ol’ British sex farce.
A wide range of comedic styles and complex stage shenanigans make for an ambitious project — especially for a community theatre. Happily, Carr’s solid direction and a strong cast of 17 make this well-rehearsed romp worth seeking out.
One Man, Two Guvnors boasts one of those Byzantine plots that would require a novelette to detail. What you need to know is this: It’s set in 1963 Brighton. Francis, a young man recently fired from his skiffle band, has taken two jobs (hence the “two guvnors” or two bosses).
One is an upper-class twit called Stanley Stubbers. The other is gangster boss Roscoe, who is really Rachel disguised in men’s clothing. Roscoe was Rachel’s dead brother who was murdered by Stanley, her fiancé. Officially, Roscoe/Rachel is engaged to dimwitted but beautiful Pauline, but she’s really in love with Alan, a struggling actor. Along the way, we also meet curvaceous and clever Dolly, Tony the Cockney-accented crook and a Latin-spouting lawyer named Harry.
Naturally such a situation is ripe for endless misunderstandings and confusion.
It’s worth noting that playwright Richard Bean based his 2011 comedy on Servant of Two Masters, an 18th-century commedia dell’arte play by Carlo Goldoni. One Man, Two Guvnors is replete with commedia-style characters. Francis, for instance, is the foolish servant/clown driven by two base passions.
In the first act he’s obsessed with food, gobbling everything in sight (this climaxes with the show’s most riotous and complicated scene, in which Francis attempts to serve delicacies to both his masters while simultaneously eating as much as he can). In the second act, his gluttony turns to lust as he focuses on wooing Dolly.
One Man, Two Guvnors is a dog’s breakfast of a play that tries to please everyone. And most of the time, it does. The comedy, often winking directly at the audience, ranges from slapstick physical comedy to corny Brit-farce gags to absurdist one-liners.
The character of Bertie Wooster-like Stanley is responsible for much of the absurdist, Python-like stuff. Here, Langham Court newcomer Liam McDonald does a wonderful job. He captures Stanley’s sense of entitlement as he wearily punts an elderly waiter with a cricket bat. Elsewhere, his upper-crust daffiness manifests itself as Stanley, gazing at a pub door while trying to concoct a pseudonym, introduces himself as “Dorian Pubsign.”
The well-cast Kyle Kushnir makes Francis the endearing buffoon the playwright intends. A fine performer, this actor has a vivacity and natural stage presence that serves him well. In addition, during Thursday’s preview performance, he displayed a canny gift for improvising with the audience. There are a multitude of these segments — they’re genuinely funny, although the timid might want to avoid front-row and aisle seats.
Pat Rundell also captured his character — his actorly Alan “sings” his lines in a scenery-chewing manner. Equally strong is Melissa Taylor, who finds Dolly’s grit as well as her allure, and makes her seem like a three-dimensional person to boot. Also notable: Tony Cain as gangster Charlie and a lively Alison Roberts as Rachel/Roscoe.
The show’s secret weapon is the Salty Quips, a 1960s-style combo in matching mustard and burgundy costumes. Jumping in and out of the action, they launch the play with folk and skiffle, then veer into early Beatles-style pop. This is an immaculately rehearsed quartet, both theatrically and musically proficient. They’re sometimes joined by characters from the farce playing xylophone and even a steel drum.
Most of what should be working in One Man, Two Guvnors does work. The food scene is the most difficult. Characters pop in and out of doors like jack-in-a-boxes. And it calls for tricky stage business, such as fire-extinguisher attacks and carrying off a waiter on a pushcart.
On this evening, the effervescence — that champagne state of seemingly effortless giddiness — that any great farce must have was on a low fizz during the first half hour. Happily, the cast soon found its groove — there was sufficient sparkle to make for a crowd-pleasing night. All the parts are now securely in place; this entertaining show will only improve as the run progresses.