ONE COULD GO ON AND ON,
EVEN THOUGH IT’S A LITTLE OFF
Ah, Noises Off, the ever-reliable theatrical farce that’s been delighting us for decades with its impeccable timing, pratfalls, and, of course, an ungodly number of sardines. Presented at L.A.’s Geffen Playhouse in cahoots with Steppenwolf Theatre—where Geffen’s new Artistic Director Tarell Alvin McCraney is an ensemble member—this revival boasts some of Chicago’s top talent and the directorial eye of Anna D. Shapiro (August: Osage County). But with all this pedigree, does it deliver more than just slamming doors and disappearing trousers? The short answer: Yes… mostly… kinda.
Many regular theatregoers have probably come across Michael Frayn‘s ridiculously inventive 1982 three-act marvel at some point in their lives. When you go, you’ll certainly have fun. But as door-slamming actors run up and down the stairs, the creaking you hear isn’t always coming from the treads and risers, but from the fact that Americans simply can’t duplicate the quick-witted banter needed to turn a funny play into one so riotous that you positively squirt out sardines in your seat. The Brits have a punchier humor, and it keeps everyone on their toes. It’s the difference between a plain vanilla ice-cream cone here and one with sprinkles across the Pond. Frayn, along with Harold Pinter and Alan Ayckbourn, simply don’t fly as well here, just as Neil Simon falls flat on The West End. And I feel sorry for anyone who hasn’t seen The Play That Goes Wrong–clearly inspired by Noises Off—in London, where it doesn’t feel stupid but revelatory. At the Geffen, there is no fault to find with the Steppenwolf cast—some of the best actors on the planet—but it’s clear that Music Hall humor is not in their bones. This is why this production goes from riotously funny to a bit draggy, especially in the third act, which should be the funniest of the night.
For the uninitiated, Noises Off is a farce within a farce, chronicling the misadventures of a hapless theater troupe rehearsing and then performing the first act of a middling bedroom comedy titled Nothing On, the negligible plot of which centers on sardines, sheets and slamming doors. Act I shows us a chaotic final dress rehearsal setting up later gags, Act II flips the set around to reveal the backstage melodrama (the real comedy gold of the night), and Act III unveils a performance late in the tour that is so catastrophically bad, it makes Spiderman: Turn off the Dark look like a well-oiled machine.
Todd Rosenthal’s revolving set is a marvel, a living entity that almost steals the show. At the onset, it is past midnight. Exhausted, overwhelmed director Lloyd Dallas (Rick Holmes, who has cynicism in his blood) must get his bumbling set of actors ready for opening night. He seems to be the only one who comprehends how dire the mess of miscues and forgotten lines is, given the opening is tonight.
It is not only the cast of misfit personalities that is intensifying the ticking of his emotional time bomb: Lloyd himself is part of that tension as he tries to quietly keep affairs going with both awkward stage manager Poppy (Vaneh Assadourian) and sexy actress Brooke (Amanda Fink, HI-larious as the ditzy blonde running around in her nighties—something I fear Americans don’t appreciate). Especially delicious in this act is Andrew Leeds as Garry, who keeps halting the rehearsal to speak, but can only deliver “It’s just… you know.”
Act II takes place a couple of weeks into their run. Everyone knows their lines and cues. The problem now lies in the real drama: interpersonal jealousies and riffs. The gloves are off for all the silent feuding and attacks going on literally behind-the-scenes as the show must go on for the unseen audience. Under Shapiro’s direction, we are treated to outstanding physical comedy and split-second timing, with some of the greatest moments going to Mr. Leeds, whose required antics border on those befitting a stunt man. Audrey Francis is a comedic powerhouse, delivering zingers with effortless precision as gossipy actress Belinda Blair, who tries desperately to keep the peace; Steppenwolf legend Francis Guinan brings a delightful dose of boozy chaos as the burglar-playing Selsdon; and special mention must be given to Steppenwolf newcomer Max Stewart, whose deadpan exhaustion as stagehand Tim Allgood is one of the most natural and relatable performances of the night. Ora Jones, another Steppenwolf heavyweight, is one of the only performers who clearly differentiates her protrayal of the actress, Dotty, from her Nothing On persona, the cockney housekeeper Mrs. Clackett—she who keeps losing sardines.
The great dramatic actor James Vincent Meredith is a resounding Freddie, the actor who needs to know his motivation just to leave the room. With trousers dropping and items glued to his hands, Meredith is perfectly cast, but he is the only weak link in the funny department. Still, his commitment to the madness is impressive.
Back at the original set in Act III things go wrong in a big way, despite the fact that they’re late into their run. We now know quite well what should be happening; as props go awry and one actress is truly off her game, everyone scrambles to hold the plot together. It’s in this act that Meredith exemplifies how actors are just hitting their many many marks—Shapiro just can’t match the funny business of the two previous acts.
It’s a perfectly entertaining and diverting evening in the theater. But if the 150-minute running time starts to feel long, don’t blame Frayn or his slapstick shenanigans. It may not be a groundbreaking production, but with this cast, you’re in safe hands—just be prepared for an evening that’s more chuckles than belly laughs.
photos by Jeff Lorch
poster photo by Justin Bettman
Noises Off
Geffen Playhouse, 10866 Le Conte Avenue in Westwood
Wed-Fri at 8; Sat at 3 & 8; Sun at 2 & 7
ends on March 9, 2025
for tickets, call 310.208.5454 or visit Geffen Playhouse
for more shows, visit Theatre in LA
