Stageloft has hit with ‘Rumors’By Paul Kolas Telegram and Gazette Reviewer STURBRIDGE - "Rumors" is a true conundrum, a comedy that generates copious laughs despite its rampant implausibility. From the setup to the frenzied finale, Neil Simon's foray into the realm of farce is a jerry-built contraption that pushes mendacious behavior to its limits and then some, as was ably demonstrated by Stageloft Repertory Theater's antic production on Saturday night. Four couples have been invited to the home of Charlie, New York's deputy mayor, and his wife, Myra, to celebrate their 10th anniversary. Before the lights go up, we hear a gunshot, followed by the appearance of couple number one, Ken and Chris. Ken is Charlie's lawyer, and when we first see him, he's rushing out of Charlie's bedroom, panicked to the point of hysteria, which is pretty much the way John Monfredo plays Ken resolutely throughout the evening. It seems that Charlie has shot himself in his left earlobe, whether by accident or in a botched suicide attempt is anyone's guess. Myra is nowhere to be found, and neither is the cook who is supposed to be preparing the sumptuous dinner. Instead of telling the next arriving couple, Lenny (Charlie's accountant) and Claire, what's happened, Ken and Chris try to cover things up with extravagantly ridiculous lies. Lenny has his own mishap to deal with, a whiplash resulting from a collision with another car en route to the party. Lenny is the most physically challenging role in the show, and Frank Bartucca makes one wince with the sustained authenticity of his aching stiff neck. Bartucca also has an extended monologue just before final curtain that he executes with comic bravura richly deserving of its spontaneous burst of applause. By the time the remaining two couples are introduced, Ernie (Charlie's therapist) and Cookie (a TV cook show celebrity with a bad back), and Glenn (a candidate for a New York state Senate seat) and Cassie (played with perfect taunting acrimony by Libby Schap), "Rumors" strains to the point of herniation to be funny. That it succeeds in doing so as much as it does, in the face of such spurious construct by Mr. Simon, is due to both director Doug Ingalls' wise handling of the material and his deft touch with his cast. Ingalls could have overdone the play's list of physical calamities, but he keeps his actors reasonably in check. When Ken is rendered hearing-impaired after Charlie's gun goes off near his ears, Monfredo is burdened with having to shout with repeated misunderstanding whenever addressed by others for much of his performance, but keeps the gag from being truly annoying. Cathy O'Brien does well not to turn Cookie and her bad back into a disabled caricature, but how someone is forced to crawl to and from the kitchen, and later tells an investigating policeman that she can't sit, walk or stand, yet can still boogie with abandon to "La Bamba" on the living room floor, is a peculiar contradiction that only Mr. Simon can explain. Bruce Adams invests Ernie with an ideally dry and acidic demeanor that contrasts amusingly with his burnt fingers. Christine Taylor is light on her feet as Chris, portraying her with a dazed yet nimble alarm. Carol Allard-Vancil's Claire is a terrific fit for Bartucca's Lenny, by turns sassy and brassy, with a pinch of blowzy thrown in for good measure. Roger Brunelle is well cast as the somewhat pompous and highly self-regarding Glenn, a man with a reputation to protect and a thing or two to hide. Matthew J. Carr has some choice moments late in the second act as Officer Welch, sporting a colorful Irish brogue as he suspiciously surveys Charlie's frayed entourage. The play's laughs may be too artificially induced, its premise too far beyond credulity, to put it within a light year of Simon's best work, such as "The Odd Couple," but it's nice to see a canny director and a good cast milk it for all it's worth. |