Arts and Culture (All)

Fired by the kind of love that transcends reason and leaves you weak in the knees.

From the thunderclap of their meeting to their untimely deaths, the power of Romeo and Juliet’s love for each other resonates throughout the play, and throughout history.
    So promises Compass Rose Theater in program notes to the youthful production of William Shakespeare’s classic. Yet the thunderclap failed to sound at the play’s pre-opening pay-what-you-can matinee. Blame it on a delayed opening due to technical problems, non-traditional casting or inexperience. Whatever the reason, there was no passion. Passionate debate and sword fights, yes, but passionate kisses, alas, no.
     Seventeen-year-old Ely Pendry, a Compass Rose alum dating back three years to Lost in Yonkers, is the best Romeo I have ever seen. He is fired by the kind of love that transcends reason and leaves you weak in the knees.
    Fourteen-year-old Sydney Maloney as the child-bride Juliet, however, does not yet have the depth of understanding to transcend emotions beyond coquetry, fear and tantrums. Similarly, this promising production feels immature. From the previous show’s recycled set to Friar John’s (Kyle Lynch) forgotten opening monologue and a conspicuous lack of equity players central to the theater’s mission, it left me unmoved. This despite many fine performances.
     In brief: Family tension is palpable from the opening clash in which the Prince of Verona (Brenna Horner) orders Romeo Montague’s father (Lynch) and Juliet Capulet’s father (Dan Reno) to rein in their feud. Romeo and his friends Benvolio (Shaina Higgins) and Mercutio (Emily Kaye Lynn) recklessly crash the Capulets’ party — and the lovers first meet.
    Juliet’s nurse (Renata Plecha), sympathetic in the extreme, arranges for the lovers’ secret marriage. Then Juliet’s kinsman Tybalt (Michael Robinson) kills Mercutio in a duel and is subsequently killed in like fashion by a reluctant Romeo who is banished from Verona, leaving Juliet inconsolable.
    Capulet and Lady Capulet (Maggie Robertson) arrange for her speedy betrothal to the haughty Count Paris (Matt Miller), an elder suitor whom she despises. Thus Friar Laurence (Thomas Hessenauer), who performed her wedding, arranges a fake death to buy time until Romeo can spirit her away from the crypt. Miscommunication results in their serial suicides.
     There is great action and acting in this show. The sword fighting is tight and treacherous. Lynn’s Mercutio sparkles with charisma and energy. Robinson’s Tybalt is a menacing hot head who commands attention. Plecha and Hessenauer bring the wisdom and compassion of age to their nurse and friar characters, and Reno demonstrates a mercurial temperament as Juliet’s father that well explains her fear of displeasing him.
    The period costumes are beautiful and tailored. Of the four women in pants roles — a reversal of the norm in Shakespeare’s time — only Lynn has the hairstyle to pull it off with aplomb, and the Prince looks strangely androgynous. Another disconcerting turn, which is probably accurate for the time and therefore a brilliant decision on the director’s part, is actors in their late 20s playing the parental roles. Do the math and be amazed. There is some music scattered throughout, but inconsistent in period and style.
     Despite the shortcomings, there is still much to enjoy in this blossoming production, not least Pendry and Lynn’s outstanding performances. As a professional show, it earns a B. But as a student project from an educational theater, it’s a real winner.

With Casey Baum as Romeo’s servant and Sydney Knoll as Juliet’s servant. Director: Lucinda Merry-Browne. Costumes: Julie Bays. Fight director: Casey Kaleba. Lights: Megan Lang. Sound: Kathleen Boidy. Set: Amy Kellet.
Playing thru April 20. Th 7pm, FSa 8pm (Sa April 12 & 19 also 2pm) Su 2pm at Compass Rose Theater, 49 Spa Rd., Annapolis. $35 w/discounts; rsvp: 410-980-6662; www.compassrosetheater.org.

You don’t have to be an artist to paint like a master — just a genius

Many have tried to copy Johannes Vermeer’s detailed and fascinating works, but it took a CEO from San Antonio with no artistic training to do it. An electrician and amateur inventor, Tim Jenison is the CEO of the wildly successful video technology company NewTek. He is not, however, a painter.
    Jenison was fascinated with the works of the 17th century painter. Vermeer was an oddity of his time because he didn’t sketch his paintings, instead working oil on canvas to achieve realistic images of Dutch domesticity. No documents survive to reveal Vermeer’s techniques; his process and the formulas for his paints are a mystery lost to the ages.
    To Jenison’s eye, Vermeer’s style resembled a compressed video image: reflecting true light values, showing single point focus and capturing amazing detail. Jenison theorized that Vermeer used a lens and camera obscura setup to get such realism. Using a small mirror and a technique he invented for matching shades, the untrained Jenison was able to create stunningly realistic paintings.
    So it was possible to paint using optics and mirrors. But did Vermeer do it that way?
    To test his theory, Jenison used his optics setup to recreate Vermeer’s The Music Lesson. This wasn’t simply a case of repainting a masterpiece; Jenison was out to prove that Vermeer could have used optics to achieve his results. Jenison visited Vermeer’s home, took measurements of his studio space and got to work.
    He recreated Vermeer’s studio, hiring experts to rebuild every stick of furniture, recreate the light that would have streamed through the windows and sew exact replicas of the clothing of the models. Jenison made his own lens, using techniques that would have been available in the 17th century, hand-polished the optics and learned how to hand-mix oil paints. With all the elements in place, it was time to test his hypothesis.
    A documentary that argues art and technology should be united instead of viewed as separate studies, Tim’s Vermeer is a tribute to inventive minds and determination. Directed by Teller (of magical duo Penn and Teller), the film is a joyful look at the dedication, obsession and ultimate triumph of Jenison and Vermeer. Narrated by Teller’s partner Penn Jillette, the film explores what makes an artist but finds no single answer.
    Capturing Jenison’s tenacity while giving the audience a hefty art history lesson, Teller manages to keep the film light and entertaining. He interviews all the right art historians to make his argument that Jenison’s methods are not only possible but probable.
    The real proof of Jenison’s thesis is his recreation of The Music Lesson. Teller painstakingly documents every exacting step Jenison takes to reach his goal. The commitment is part technology, part madness and all art.
    You’ll need to go to Baltimore or D.C. to catch this documentary, but it’s well worth the trip. Don’t be surprised if you find yourself buying a small mirror and some oil paints after you see it.

Great Documentary • PG-13 • 80 mins.

Liam Neeson texts with a terrorist in this silly but enjoyable drama

Bill Marks (Liam Neeson: The Lego Movie) needs a few belts of liquor before he goes to work in the morning. Marks is an air marshal entrusted with guarding passengers on international flights. He’s afraid of flying and desperate for another drink, but he tries to white-knuckle his way through.
    The one perk of the job is his seat: Apparently air marshals sit in first class and enjoy all the amenities. When his cell phone beeps mid-flight, he expects new orders from his boss. Instead it’s a text from a passenger threatening to kill one person on the plane every 20 minutes until a ransom of $150 million arrives.
    It might be a joke, but Marks has to be sure. He alerts the crew, sets his watch for 20 minutes and looks for who’s making the threats.
    The first body announces the 20-minute mark. Marks is convinced the threat is real, but TSA and Homeland Security suspect Marks himself. With only a flight attendant and fellow passenger to help him, Marks seeks to stop the killing and find the killer. But as he gets closer, the passengers begin to suspect his motives.
    Non-Stop is a ridiculous locked-room thriller with a tenuous grasp on physics and logic. Astoundingly, neither the breach of Newton’s laws nor facts keeps Non-Stop from being an entertaining film.
    Director Jaume Collet-Serra (Unknown) makes the most of the confined setting of the film. Every shot reminds you of just how small aircrafts can be, making the whodunit storyline tenser. Well-choreographed fights are staged in claustrophobic plane bathrooms, cabins and aisles.
    There are drawbacks to using text message exchanges to build tension. Texting is a passive form of communication, forcing you to read plot points with an autocorrect feature. It’s hard to make texting riveting, and the movie feels silly when Neeson grimaces at his phone, punching keys dramatically.
    As the man who kicked off the so called geri-action genre, Neeson is adept at making the ridiculous entertaining if not believable. Neeson is also a great brawler, rushing his opponents and throwing rapid, brutal punches. His dramatic training lets him give gravitas to even the silliest lines of dialog. Mark Wahlberg couldn’t get away with saying “I’m not hijacking this plane! I’m trying to save it!”
    This fun but mindless action would be great to catch on a plane.

Good Action • PG-13 • 106 mins.

The playwrights did it.

The theater darkens. Ominous, deep, suspenseful music oozes around us. Shadows rise. A hooded figure attacks. Bowie Community Theater’s latest, Dark Passages, begins.
    A good whodunit requires tight writing, staging and pacing, all to keep the audience on the edge of their seats.
    In this modern take on the murder suspense mystery, the cast works hard to rise above a script that gives us little more than we’ve already seen in movies, plays and episodes of Castle.
    Playwrights Shannon Michael Dow, Jan Henson Dow and Robert Schroeder have put together a script that is sometimes funny, sometimes involving. But its constant and obvious efforts to keep us guessing about whodunit ironically sap the play of the suspense that ought to be at its core.
    Are we on the edge of our seats? No. Are we curious? Yes, about whodunit of course, but also about why a script set in the present day of voice mail and texts relies on an early-1990s’ era cassette tape telephone answering machine as a plot point. Or why the choice was made to hang a working clock on the wall to remind us of the real time — around 8:30pm, for example, when the program tells us the scene we’re watching is set on “a weekday afternoon.”
    Quibbles aside, Bowie Community Theater’s production provides us an entertaining evening, with some compelling characters and some clever, two-level staging that allows the action to flow effectively.
    Set in an upstate New York college town, the mystery begins when several young women go missing. We are introduced to Sandy (Chrisshall Daniel), a graduate assistant to professor Mark (Pat Reynolds). Sandy is first to be taken away, in the dark of her apartment by a black-hooded intruder. Mark’s girlfriend Bret (Amanda Magoffin) moves into the vacated apartment run by creepy landlord Harold (Scott Beadle). Across the hall is neighbor Eric (Matt Leyendecker), whose loud banging is explained away as him working on his art, though the box he moves it in is roughly the size of a coffin.
    We also meet oversexed Gillian (Lenora Spahn), a friend of Bret’s just back from Europe and looking at males like a dog in heat. Will she be next? Will Bret? Detective Russell (James McDaniel) is there to investigate. Or is he?
    Meanwhile, Bret and Mark are having their problems. It turns out the professor was having an affair with the missing Sandy. Eric rejects Gillian’s advances. More ominous music, another attack … another woman goes missing. The plot turns again. 
    Whodunit is revealed at the end, of course, after several more twists. The likeable cast has turned in a solid performance. We rise, not from the edge of our seats but from deep within, that ominous music serenading us as we exit, wondering how this talented group might have fared with a script that asks more of them and us.

Directed by John Nunemaker. Producer: Taylor Kidd. Stage manager: Bernadette Arvidson. Sound designer: Dan Caughran. Set designer: Gerard Williams. Lighting designer: Garrett Hyde.

Playing thru March 16. FSa 8pm, Su 2pm at White Marsh Playhouse, Bowie. $20 w/discounts; rsvp: 301-805-0219; www.bctheatre.com.

The couple that kills together may not stay together

Thérèse (Elizabeth Olsen: Very Good Girls) had a tough childhood. Abandoned at her aunt’s home by her father, Thérèse was raised with her sickly cousin Camille (Tom Felton: From the Rough). Trained by her Aunt Raquin (Jessica Lange: American Horror Story) to be a nursemaid to spoiled rotten Camille, Thérèse escapes to dreams of Paris.
    When Camille decides he’s of an age to move to Paris and make a living like a grownup, Madame Raquin forces Thérèse to marry him. Her ploy not only keeps the family together but also ensures Camille’s inheritance of Thérèse’s secret fortune. Thérèse isn’t thrilled, but she’s an illegitimate daughter with no education. Her options are marriage or the streets.
    Just as Thérèse has resigned herself to a loveless and sexless marriage, she meets Laurent (Oscar Isaac: Inside Llewyn Davis), Camille’s artist coworker. The two begin a torrid affair. Life would be perfect if they could openly be together.
    Camille has to go. They plot his demise between trysts, but when it comes to the deed, they are infirm of purpose.
    Based on Emile Zola’s classic novel Thérèse Raquin, In Secret shares the original’s fascination with sex, guilt and obsession. Unfortunately, director Charlie Stratton (Revenge) is not Zola. Unlike Zola’s novel, which maps out themes of repression, sexual awakening and guilt, Stratton jumps from sex scenes to overwrought dramatic monologues. We don’t have time to develop sympathies, so it’s a long march through the plot.
    As the tragic lovers, Olsen and Isaac are oddly cast. Though they have decent chemistry, their acting styles clash with the story. They’re too loud and expressive for repressive 1867 France, where a woman’s transgressions could ruin her. Olsen seems especially lost, vacillating from vacancy to histrionics. Isaac is a charming seducer, but he can’t mine much substance from this shallowly written character.
    Lange makes the most of her underwritten role by gracefully chewing the scenery as Thérèse’s controlling aunt. She has recently reinvented herself as a Bette Davis-style crone, reveling in the grotesque. Here, she dials back the performance, portraying Aunt Raquin as a well-meaning woman who is so blinded by her devotion to a sick child that she neglects the other child in her care.
    In Secret does have a few good moments, especially when Stratton plays with the guilty couple’s minds. He also invites us to watch very pretty people having sex in beautifully lit montages.

Fair Drama • R • 101 mins.

2nd Star Productions casts dynamite in this explosive production

2nd Star Productions grew up on musicals and comedy. Now 18 years old, the company has matured. You’ll see the change — and you’ll want to, I promise you — in 2nd Star’s first production in a new playhouse.
    A Soldier’s Play, at the Charis Center for the Arts, is serious drama arising from social discord. It’s the kind of significant show you’d expect from Dignity Players, the Annapolis social justice-focused company about to go dormant. Rated R for mature audiences, Charles Fuller’s 1982 Pulitzer Prize winner is historical fiction rooted in racial tension and mystery. 2nd Star brings a dynamite cast of fresh talent to its production.
    The time is 1944. The setting is a segregated army base in Louisiana, where 90 percent of the soldiers are black enlisted men warehoused away from combat. One of the black soldiers has been murdered. Circumstances are puzzling. The story follows the investigation of his death.
    Sgt. Waters (Cristopher M. Dinwiddie), was admired for his high standards and impeccable record — and resented for his inflexibility. When his body is found in the woods, his commanding officer, Capt. Taylor (Dan Kavanaugh), refuses to accept the obvious explanation of a Klan attack. He demands a full investigation. But when black lawyer Capt. Davenport (Kevin Sockwell) is assigned to the case, Taylor worries that Davenport’s color will stand in the way of his investigation. In fact, Davenport’s race and conviction make him just the man to navigate the ins and outs of the black enlisted men’s barracks and the white officer corps. What follows is a series of testimonies, related in flashbacks, illustrating the sergeant’s mercurial temperament, racial  self-loathing and self-important authority over a company of elite baseball players.
    Among Sgt. Waters’ soldiers are Pvt. Wilkie (Benny Pope), a former sergeant demoted for being drunk on duty; Pvt. Smalls (Antoine Bragg), a surly malcontent; Pvt. Henson (Daley Fitzgerald Gunter), a hunky ladies’ man and dispassionate observer of barracks’ politics; PFC Peterson (Reginald Grier), the quiet one; Pvt. C.J. Memphis (Ramone Williams), a gifted blues musician and gentle soul from the South; and Cpl. Cobb (David E. Johnson Jr.), C.J.’s best friend. Cpl. Ellis (Frederick Henderson) is the sergeant’s eager right-hand man. Two bigoted white officers, Lt. Byrd (Lawrence Griffin) and Capt. Wilcox (Ethan Goldberg), are dragged into the investigation as the last to see Sgt. Waters alive. Davenport considers the whole crew to have motives and means for the murder.
    In this vast and youthful cast, only the three white actors — Kavanaugh, Griffin and Goldberg — are familiar to Anne Arundel audiences. The rest, a remarkably talented and fit group justly cast as athletes, make the barracks hum with palpable camaraderie. All were recruited by the show’s producer, Cheramie Jackson. Dinwiddie stuns as Sgt. Waters, a role he played for Prince George’s Hard Bargain Players, and Johnson’s soulful melodies haunt long after curtain. 
    New faces and content aren’t the only surprises consequent on 2nd Star’s accommodation of the new three-show scheduling restriction imposed by its long-time home, Bowie Playhouse, to accommodate a fourth residential company.
    Long acclaimed for ornate sets, 2nd Star now offers a minimalist set of black platforms without special effects in the Charis Center’s primitive accommodations. It doesn’t matter, given the energy onstage.
    You’ll be on edge the full two hours.

Director and set designer: Jane B. Wingard. Producer: Cheramie J. Jackson. Lights: Rick Schultz. Sound: Ramone Williams. Costumes: Wingard and Jackson.
Playing thru March 9. FSa 8pm, Su 3pm at Charis Center for the Arts, 13010 8th St., between the post office and fire department in Bowie’s historic district. $15 w/discounts; rsvp: 410-757-5700; www.2ndstarproductions.com.

The donuts are all that’s missing in this theatrical treat

Welcome to Superior Donuts in Uptown Chicago, established by the Przybyszewski family c. 1950 and static ever since. You know the place: checkerboard floor, lettered window, illuminated menu board, vintage register. All that’s missing in Colonial Players’ set is the sweet aroma and some napkins for the dispensers.
    Arthur (Terry Averill), the aged hippie who owns the place, hasn’t had his heart in it lately. What with his ex’s death, his daughter’s estrangement and the new Starbucks across the street, he’s more in touch with past failures than present possibilities.
    Still, he has his regulars: namely officers James Bailey (Chris Haley) and Randy Osteen (Shirley Panek), who has a crush on Arthur; and Lady Boyle (Mary McLeod), his homeless friend and confidante. When vandalism pushes Arthur to the brink, Max Tarasov (Rick Estberg), the Russian immigrant who owns the DVD store next door, offers to buy the place.
    Then Franco Wicks (Darius McCall) hires on and lobbies for healthier menu options, poetry readings and profit sharing. Arthur isn’t so sure about Franco’s ideas, but he feels kinship with the gifted writer who’s put school on hold to pay off debts — gambling debts, as it turns out. Enter Luther Flynn (Mike Fox), a loan shark and exploiter, and his enforcer Kevin Magee (Gerald Inglesby).
    While Superior Donuts is funnier and lighter than Tracy Letts’ typical work (August: Osage County), it nevertheless contains mature themes, language and violence. A story for modern times, about community as a substitute for family, it teeters between chill and chilling. Arthur’s story lulls us with introspective calm through snippets of conversation in his foggy present and lucid soliloquies about his past — until reality breaks the hush, demanding he take a stand against the thugs who strong-arm his new friend.
    This is a smart show, well staged and well acted. Every actor surpasses the character sketch. Averill is every inch the 1960s’ holdout, deceptively sly and capable under his rumpled appearance.  McCall delights with his youthful enthusiasm and mastery of a role he learned in only three weeks. Estberg is flashy and hilarious with his authentic Russian accent and butchered English, bringing a depth of conviction to the comical immigrant who nevertheless commands respect. McLeod wears her duct-taped tiara with dignity. Haley and Panek eclipse their cop personas with genuine personalities. The Mafiosi radiate menace, and Ben Carr captivates in the tiny cameo of the monosyllabic Russian giant Kiril Ivakin.
    The show is technically strong as well, with a soundtrack of ambient street noises timed to swell each time the door opens and lighting details that evoke a commercial failure. The costumes speak volumes about their characters, from Lady’s plastic-bag boots to Arthur’s tie-died T-shirt.
    My only reservation is the credibility of casting Terry Averill as the main character. Averill is an outstanding actor, but his frail build belies the Pillsbury doughboy image of the aged baker. Add to that his climactic fight scene with hulking Fox (Luther) and the play touches on theater of the absurd. It’s like watching Tony Soprano and Woody Allen in a knock-down drag-out.
    Suspend your disbelief in that incongruity, and you’ll see a winner at every level, including insight into urban development, racial tension and the fragmentation of the family.

Director and set designer: Kristofer Kauff. Sound: Ben Cornwell. Lights: Brittany Rankin. Costumes: Jean Berard and Beth Terranova. Running time: two and a half hours plus intermission.

Playing thru March 8 ThFSa 8pm, Su 2pm (also 7:30pm Feb. 23) at Colonial Players Theater, Annapolis. $20w/discounts; rsvp: 410-268-7373; www.thecolonialplayers.org.

What price do you put on art?

On the road to world domination, the Third Reich developed quite the taste for art. Looting the churches, museums and private collections of Europe, the Nazis amassed millions of paintings, sculptures and precious pieces of jewelry. Hitler intended to create a Fuhrer Museum and fill it with art pilfered from conquered lands.
    Monuments Men to the rescue!
    To combat the rape of Europe’s culture, art historian Frank Stokes (George Clooney: Gravity) appeals to President Franklin D. Roosevelt. Tasked with rescuing and returning the great works of Europe, the Monuments Men are a motley crew of old, fat and/or physically impaired art experts. After white-knuckling through basic training, they head to France post-D-Day, hot on the heels of the retreating Nazis.
    The stakes rise when they learn that if Germany falls or Hitler dies, the surviving Nazis will destroy every piece of art in their possession.
    This true story has amazing potential, but Monuments Men the movie has little follow through. Director Clooney fails to develop a cogent storyline. Eschewing the great historic drama of the true tale, he fabricates deaths and romances for the sake of comedy.
    For the real story, track down the superior documentary The Rape of Europa.
    Because Clooney gives little time to his characters, we don’t invest in their stories. Characters build friendships, fall in love and die in jump-cut scenes, and we don’t much care. To drive home important points, Clooney cues the soundtrack, pulling out the bombastic stop.
    Saving the film from utter disaster is an all-star cast. Matt Damon, Cate Blanchett, John Goodman and Bob Balaban work overtime to wring every bit of drama and comedy from a weak script. The standout is Bill Murray, who creates the film’s one genuine emotional moment and steals every lighthearted scene he graces.
    If Clooney had trusted his cast to flesh out their characters, Monuments Men could have been a great film instead of an entertaining but shallow historic comedy.

Fair historic dramedy • PG-13 • 118 mins.

See this film and you’ll waste not only your money but 94 minutes of your life.

Once upon a time, two little pigs lived in New York City. Graphic designer Jason (Zac Efron: Parkland) creates outlandishly sexist covers for women’s books. Jason cultivates a roster of women and gels his hair straight up. Whenever a woman asks more from him than a few disappointing minutes, he cries Wee, Wee, Wee all the way home.
    His graphic partner is college buddy Daniel (Miles Teller: 21 & Over), who also enjoys chauvinist jokes and casual sex. Instead of hair gel, Daniel uses sarcasm to make him more attractive to women at bars.
    The two porcine pals are shocked when their buddy, doctor Mikey (Michael B. Jordan: Fruitvale Station) is dumped by a cheating wife. They drag their devastated friend to a bar.
    Unaware that he has the most disgusting friends in the world, Mikey pours his heart out to Daniel and Jason. The brain trust makes a bet: All will remain single. This of course means that all three men will meet irresistible girls in a matter of hours.
    Jason hooks up with a successful author who is creative and vivacious. We know that because she mixes thrift store coats with pricey designer dresses and doesn’t own a hairbrush. They roam the city together, reveling in how vapid and attractive they are. Daniel falls for his gal pal, who has apparently spent a large chunk of her 20s following him to bars and helping him trick women into sleeping with him. Mikey meets a girl with glasses, which is all we learn about her.
    Can these men make the leap to commitment? Can you stomach this movie without becoming violently ill?
    It’s rare to find a romantic comedy starring three people so vile that you hope they never find love, not out of any vindictive impulse but out of an altruistic desire to protect humanity’s gene pool from further contamination. Judd Apatow has proven that gross-out humor can be smart and hilarious. Here writer/director Tom Gormican made sure That Awkward Moment lived up to its name with his incompetent direction and insulting view of male friendship. You cringe for everyone listed in the credits.
    See this film and you’ll waste not only your money but 94 minutes of your life. Both Teller and Jordan have offered fantastic performances in the past year and have careers to watch. Jordan is barely in the movie, but his natural charisma makes a nothing part slightly more interesting. Teller does his best with Gormican’s ham-fisted dialog, but even he can’t land these dud punch lines.
    Efron, who’s in the spotlight, doesn’t have the skill to carry a good movie, let alone this abysmal flick.

Horrible romantic comedy • R • 94 mins.

Two hours of anarchic cacophony and classic pop guaranteed to prolong the craziness of your week

2nd Star Productions does a lot right in staging Funny Money by Britain’s master of farce Ray Cooney. The pace of the frenetic comedy never drags. Actors are superb and spot-on in accents. Director Fred Nelson uses the stage for maximum clarity in this Gordian knot of accidents and lies. Jane B. Wingard’s set and Linda Swann’s costumes feel right. The problem is, it’s a farce. Or maybe that’s just me.
    If your thirst for confusion borders on the masochistic, if you relish sexual innuendo, if you appreciate blubbering drunks and screaming matches, if you’re either hearing impaired or wish to be, then this is the show for you. Just don’t expect the Americanized Chevy Chase film version.
    How many one-dimensional characters and compromising situations does it take to make a British farce? The more the merrier.
    Decorous accountant Henry Perkins (Gene Valendo) accidentally swaps briefcases with a criminal. Finding himself a trillionaire, he plans to abscond with the money — only to be thwarted at every turn. Darling but boring wife, Jean (Mary Wakefield) crashes from teetotaler to drunk the moment he tells her to pack. Crooked Inspector Davenport (Michael N. Dunlop) observes Henry’s giddy trips to the pub loo where he counts the money, follows him home on suspicion of solicitation and is shuttled off to the dining room to ponder a lie while he awaits his bribe. Bill the Taxi Driver (Zak Zeeks) arrives early with the airport shuttle only to be repeatedly sent to the curb to ponder more lies while he awaits his fare.
    Plainspoken Detective Sgt. Slater (Robert Eversberg) reports from the morgue that Mr. Perkins was found murdered, clutching a briefcase containing papers and a cheese and chutney sandwich. Thus, a family member must identify the body, but not until Sgt. Slater is shuttled off to the kitchen to ponder more lies while he makes tea for the grieving widow. Dinner guests Vic and Betty (John Wakefield and Samantha Feikema) take sides in the Perkins’ domestic dispute, culminating in a wife-swapping plan; Betty longs to travel and Jean refuses to leave, but Vic is a good sport and even gets himself embroiled in the deception. And then there is Mr. Big (Ronald Araújo), a drug lord who keeps calling for his burfcrse until Bill the Taxi Driver blithely gives him the address.
    Where’s Sherlock Holmes when you need him? How could two detectives in adjoining rooms hear hysterics without suspecting something? How does every compromising situation involve a cabal under the covers on the couch, convincing detectives it’s all one big bedroom romp?
    Despite the script, performances are commendable. Valendo displays priceless calm and trance-like incredulity in the midst of chaos. Zeeks is audacious and sexy. Dunlop is believable as the cop-on-the-take. And Feikema sizzles in her quest for adventure.
    Funny Money is two hours of anarchic cacophony and classic pop that is guaranteed to prolong the craziness of your week and generate a few belly laughs to cheer the winter blues.

Playing thru Feb. 16. ThFSa 8pm & Su 3pm at Bowie Playhouse, Whitemarsh Park: $22 w/discounts; rsvp: 410-757-5700; www.2ndstarproductions.com.