It’s all true— it’s all true— hilarity will ensue! Down at The Dew Drop Inn— you’ll laugh too— it’s all true! Now granted, my lyrical composition isn’t nearly as hysterical as Jaki Demarest’s when it comes to scribbling together crackpot-laughable words for the 70’s heehaw hoe-down spin-about that happens pretty darn close to the end of Act I with some of the blokes box-stepping ‘round one another in sheer nonsense-grade bliss. Wait— sorry— TIMEWARP!! Back it up— all the waaaay back to the 1970s, so we can pick up this latest WandaVision-stylized production of The Rude Mechanicals in their recent run of Restoration Comedies a-la-Marvel-TV-through-the-decades. This time it’s The Beaux’ Stratagem written (mostly) by George Farquhar (with questionable direct relation to actor Scott Farquhar, who plays in this very production) and Directed and Adapted by Jaki Demarest. It’s a hoot & scream and a grand groovy outing that will really tickle your funny bone in the way that only 1970’s trippy-daze tomfoolery can.
This company-conceived concept of “WandaVision”-izing the most recent run of shows started way back with The Rudes’ production of The Country Wife (does anybody remember the Pre-Pandy times? Try. It’s hard. But try.) And that was stellar; set in the 1950’s, hilarity and all that jazz, it launched “the series.” It was followed up, on this side of the pandemic with the 1960’s The Belle’s Stratagem, and now we’ve progressed to the 1970’s for The Beaux’ Stratagem. It’s set in TRM-TV Studios, with this extraordinary lens of you— the theatre-watching audience— being a live-studio ‘TV’ audience for whichever ‘sit-com’ of the time that they’re filming (for this run it’s Beaux.) This comes complete with ‘set-crew’ who act as a part of the concept, and a ‘stage manager’ calling the shots to change scenes and flip the show around.
I can honestly say, I’’ve never seen a concept like this come together quite so fluidly as it does under Jaki Demarest’s seasoned directorial skills. You’ve got Diana Dzikiewicz as the “RMTV Director” calling out scene changes— including a hilarious top-of-the-show set gag where the crew comes bursting on decrying how they didn’t realize the show was to be set in Lichfield, Kentucky and not Manhattan, New York— and her assistant, Eric Honour, smoothly guiding scenic transitions. Co-Set-Fabricators Demarest and Alan Duda have the triple-R system in place (Recycle, Reuse, Reduce) with regurgitated set pieces from Belle Strat. refurbished with some fresh, hideodious olive-avocado paint, and appropriate scenic adjustments (look at the blankets, pillows, and literally anything hanging on the wall.) It may not be the lava-lamp-gel-color-change but it’s definitely a neat little set with all the hallmarks of “this is this scene and that is that scene.” (You might even get to access some live-time bloopers as crew bumble about…but the true beauty of that is that you have no idea whether these bumblings are intentionally staged or real-life mistakes; they fit the concept of watching a live-studio-filming so well they’re delightful either way!) It’s a wow-factor 10/10 for me and it’s the garish neon-pop Marilyn Monroe print (which mostly goes away) that really gives you a chuckle. The devil is in the details all throughout this set— and if there’s one complaint to be had? It’s that in an intimate venue like The Greenbelt Arts Center, where you can see the literal devilish details— BOURBON IS NOT CLEAR. Though honestly? If that’s the big complaint of the production, TRM, y’all are well ahead of the game.
Spencer Dye has put together some extraordinary looks for the production, encapsulating the throwback horrors of the 1970’s splendidly. Flare-legs, shocking orange hair, heinous-borderline-porno-mustaches, outfits on every character that literally just scream “we’re in that Disco Inferno, Baby. Please BURN-BABY-BURN these clothes after wearing.” Dye does a fine job of finding outfits that really suit each of the characters’ styles and the actors that wear them. High compliments go to her country-cottage-hick-core featured on Cherry and the finer threads seen on Aimwell & Archer. (That in itself sounds like a bad 70’s sitcom-dramadey-action show.)
The show itself moves with judicious expedition in its overall pacing. Even when there’s a planned/unplanned hiccup with the ‘stage crew’ you never feel like you’re dragging, lagging, or falling behind on the acting. There’s some “singing” (please note the quotes and take that as you will) as well as some iconic 1970’s really-lame-fight-choreography, which has the absolute desired effect of hilarious and uproarious laughter from the audience. (Rin MacDonald gets props for Fight Choreo; despite being ultra-cheesy in true 70’s style, it reads clean, and totally safe.) It’s even accompanied by comic-book-cartoon pillows that say things like “POW!” There’s a whole level of creative nuance that Demarest and the production team (AD’s Alan Duda & Liana Olear, Costumes Spencer Dye, Fight-Choreo Rin MacDonald, Lighting Designers Liana Olear & Stephen Duda,) dive headlong into and are unabashedly presenting for your laughing-enjoyment. There’s even a few clever sound choices involved, like hearing “Dashboard Lights” at the conclusion of scene three in the first act. (IYKYK. IYDK, then see the show.)
Demarest massages Farquhar’s work to fit her ‘WandaVision’ tenfold and is extremely successful with the outcome. There’s a lot of physical antics, particularly where Innkeeper Boniface (played by Joshua Engel) is involved, and the comedic pauses, timing, and overall handling of these intentionally humorous send-up style moments is well-executed under Demarest’s hawklike eyes. Demarest takes every opportunity to squeeze extra humor into the show and ironically enough nothing ever feels shoe-horned or forced. You get that great scene, just on the other side of Act II, where Lady Sullen and Dorinda are not-so-surreptitiously-spying through very transparent French doors, and all the comic nonsense that occurs in that silent ante-scene is sheer brilliance. And the production as a whole is peppered with delightful nonsense like that. Because who doesn’t want to laugh at a comedy and really feel good about the silliness when all is said and done? Demarest gets that. And Demarest and her fantastical cast and crew deliver that tenfold.
It’s a cast of ten… plus two…plus two? Math is hard. This is why I’m a theatre critic. It’s like 14 bodies in motion with ten of them being primary-ish players, two of them being cameo-sorts who also double up as Stage Crew in a show where Stage Crew are active characters in their own right, and two more who are the heads of said active stage crew. It’s Meta. Roll with it. But regardless of the confusing, diagramable map you need to sort out who is who in the show, the one thing that can be said without question is that the performance is chock-a-block with talent. Some old friends and new faces (old friends with new faces? Hard to tell with all that 70’s facial hair!) populate the stage during Beaux and it’s a delightful mix of fantastical performances all across the board.
Start with Scrub (Peter Orvetti.) Scrub buttles. The end.
No seriously, Orvetti as the haphazard ‘help’ is good natured, full of subtle humors and knows how to make a well-timed entrance for comedic effect. Add in the rogues (not to be confused with The Rudes, which technically they all are, but these two perhaps longer than most)— Jacob Hounslow (Alan Duda) and Janet Bagshot (Liana Olear.) No idea why they have names as the names never become particularly apparent or necessary, but watching their antics during the “heist-n-holdup” portion of the show is hilarious. Keep an eye on Duda once he lands himself on the— we’re calling that pullout-multipurpose-sofa-thing a bed— on the bed. Actually, once Duda, Olear, and Joe Kubinski (playing The French Reverend, aka Rev. Andre Foiegras) end up on that ‘bed’ they’ll have you laughing so hard… you’ll tie yourself up in knots.
Speaking of Kubinski and laughing, his character affects a surprisingly consistent French accent that both adds humor to his character whilst being completely understandable from the audience. Often times, the more outrageous the attempt at an accent, the more difficulty the audience has understanding it but Kubinski finds that balance with wild success. His character is… and odd duck to say the least. And he parades around looking a lot like a French Zorro. But hey; we’re here for it. Or at least I am. Was? Yes. Go for Joe Kubinski’s fun and engaging accent, among dozens of other reasons to support this production.
Mamaaaaaa! The true tragedy of this WandaVision restoration-comedy-gone-sitcom is that the character of Mrs. Marsha Bountiful (Marianne Virnelson) isn’t experienced at all until the second act. When she bursts on the scene— complete with larger-than-life-cowbell-ringing-antics— you wish you had more of her from Jump Street. Virnelson is a wonder in the cameo-style role, and it really does make you wish there were more scenes for her because of the wacky, hilarious nature she’s bringing to the part.
While there may not be a farmer’s daughter, per se, in Lichfield Kentucky, there’s an Innkeeper’s Daughter…and she’s so far off from little Eponine & Cosette that your head will spin right round, right round. Caroline Adams, making her Rudes’ debut in the role of Cherry, is seriously channeling that Daisy Duke reality, only in a more cottage-core fashion sense. Her accent, like Kubinski’s, is spot-on and consistent. And her level of smitten-to-smithereens upon encountering Archer is over-the-top in that perfect-for-this-show fashion that you can’t help but laugh. Adams is a delight to watch on stage, though her scenes are not as many as some of the other female characters (blame Farquhar…George, not Scott…), you’ll enjoy every minute of her interactions, especially her ‘letter’ near the show’s conclusion.
Forces to be reckoned with in their own rights, Dorinda Bountiful (Spencer Dye) is the yin to Kate Sullen (Melissa Schick)’s yang. With Dye being the more subtle, quiet, and emotionally reserved of the ‘sister-set’ (they’re sisters by marriage) and Schick being the more explosive, bombastic, irrational half, the pair compliment one another divinely all throughout the performance. Schick gets a great many moments to powerhouse her vocals all around the stage, and her facial expressions are practically erupting from her eye sockets (especially in that aforementioned French-doors ante-scene.) Dye has a solid command of her chosen vocal affection which delivers this oddly archaic language in a way that is astonishingly suiting for the 1970’s.
Mr. Jerimiah Sullen (Scott Farquhar, the other Farquhar) is the epitome of everything we hate about the town drunk whilst simultaneously embodying everything we love about the town drunk. He’s mildly obnoxious, politely rude, and tumbledown drunk at all times. Farquhar does an amazing job at holding perfectly still, save for the unruly snoring, when his character has ‘passed out’ and the hilarity of all the little things— like the cigarette that hangs precariously from his lips, ever threatening to fall and blaze the blanket to ashes (though not really probably as it’s not lit)— is a glittering gemstone in this crown of comedies. His rowdy interactions with Schick add to the humors of the show and when he’s discussing the particulars of exchange with Archer, there are some precision zingers that land like a rocket fired straight to the moon.
Aimwell & Archer. Like I said, sitcom all its own. And Tommy Hegarty & Daniel Hubbell (Aimwell and Archer respectively) live up to those shenanigans, serving as the show’s primary protagonists. We won’t forget John Boniface (Joshua Engel) but he’s in a special scene-stealing, nonsense-pulling category all his own so for the moment, we’re going to flip the channel and focus on the Aimwell & Archer show. Hegarty is the posh half. Clipped, polished British accent, tries to stay prim and proper, lands that delightfully dry British humor that gives one the chuckles. Hubbell is the proverbial bull in the China shop when it comes to the pair, though not in a stupid-Stooges kind of way. He’s got more of that Austin Powers prowess about him? Think Spy Who Shagged Me while maintaining a slightly more level head about him. The pair are delightful in their respective roles. Once the wheelbarrow gets dragged into the mix (a physical garden wheelbarrow…IYKYK. IYDN…see the show!) it’s sheer hysterical nonsense. Both Hegarty and Hubbell have a fantastic sense of spatial relations to both each other, the set, and the other characters with which they interact. It’s like they came into Demarest’s vision, sharing it and conceiving with her, even though this is Hegarty’s first show with the Rudes, and Hubbell’s first in-person show with the company.
I did promise we’d get back to Boniface. Joshua Engel may have actually lived this role of the country-hickified-innkeep in a previous life, he suits the character so well. With that affected accent, exacting comedic timing and delivery, and an overall sense of ‘well what the country flickity-fluck is happening’ just pouring out of all his facial orifices, Engel is a scene-stealing delight. Boniface isn’t a protagonist, he’s not exactly an antagonist, he’s just sort of a comic device unto himself but Engel makes that work in the best way possible, fortifying the comedy of the show a dozen times over. Side-eye, slide-steps, and unending comedically-timed pauses during a recurring callback style joke, Engel has it all. Including that god-awful 70’s facial hair. And he “sings” too. Try to keep a straight face for when he’s on stage. It’s very hard, nearing impossible.
Splendor! Noise! Laughter! And bad 70’s facial hair. This one WandaVision-episode you won’t want to miss. The Beaux’ Stratagem is truly a gem…for if passion needs vent, this show is a whole HVAC unit ready to blow.
Running Time: Approximately 2 hours and 10 minutes with one intermission
The Beaux’ Stratagem plays through April 1st 2023 (no, that isn’t a prank; that’s seriously the final day of the run) with The Rude Mechanicals, a resident company of Greenbelt Arts Center— 123 Centerway in downtown Greenbelt, MD. For tickets call the box office at 301-441-8770 or purchase them online.
Please note that masks are still required at all times by members of the audience inside Greenbelt Arts Center. No concessions are available for purchase at this time.
