Civic Theatre pulls off well-worn comic farce

Michael Frayn’s hysterical backstage farce, “Noises Off,” is a surefire comedy engine.

Wind it up and let it roar. Audiences will always go home with sore stomach muscles from laughing so hard.

And this Spokane Civic Theatre production works better than most of the productions I’ve seen. Not all, but most. Some of the British accents are a little shaky and some of the lines are delivered with too much of a wink. Yet director Troy Nickerson and his cast get the toughest part of the show absolutely right: the physical comedy.

There was one stretch in the second act where the whole thing looked like a comic ballet. Characters were chasing each other with fire axes, they were passing whiskey bottles like footballs, and one unfortunate character was hopping around like a rabbit because someone had tied his shoes together. And most of this was done silently, like a great Buster Keaton comedy.

Then there was another stretch in the third act when sardines were flying and guys were lurching around with their pants down and actresses were down on the floor in their underwear. It’s hard to describe why this seems so funny, except to say this show has a cumulative effect on the audience. The mayhem builds until the dam breaks.

Nickerson has a gift for organizing all of this mayhem, which is not easy. In other productions I’ve seen of “Noises Off,” it looks like mayhem, all right. But not necessarily comic mayhem. This cast had the comic timing to make it jell.

“Noises Off” is about a bad British theater troupe, staging a dreadful sex farce called “Nothing On.” In the first act, we see them trying to rehearse the show, with an ominous lack of success. In the second act, the set revolves to show them performing the same show from backstage, a month later. Despite the fact that they can’t talk backstage, they still manage to communicate their homicidal urges to each other. In the third act, the set revolves to the front again, as we see the show’s inevitable crash.

“Noises Off” is an ensemble piece, and everybody contributes to the grand chaos. I would like to single out Jamie Flanery, who created the most believable and natural character as the put-upon director Lloyd Dallas. Patrick McHenry-Kroetch, as the inarticulate actor Garry Lejeune, gave the best physical comedy performance of the night, at one point levering himself through a doorway like a young John Cleese.

Allison Standley was hilarious throughout as the vague yet sexy Brooke Ashton, who struck Playmate poses and rotely delivered her vapid lines, whether they made sense or not. Jone Campbell Bryan was wonderful as the well-meaning Belinda, who tries vainly to salvage the show.

A few minor suggestions: Wes Deitrick, as Frederick, should try to slow his delivery for better articulation. Melody Deatherage, as Dotty, might want to tone down the broad accent, which sometimes sounded like Eliza Doolittle squared.

Yet both of them, along with the rest of the cast, earned their share of well-timed and well-observed laughs.

The other stars of this show are set designers and artists Peter Hardie and Nik Adams, who built a complicated set with lots of stairs and doors, all mounted on a turntable so it can be turned around 180 degrees between acts. The backstage part of the set was as much fun to look at as the front.