“The Secret of Comedy,” Michael Kimball’s kickoff to the Players’ Ring 2007-2008 season, asks only one question: What would you do if the best day of your life were also the worst day of your life? 

In this case, a frugal pilot wins a $12 million lottery … on the same day his wife is diagnosed with cancer and given three weeks to live.

Kimball’s manuscripts are like a brilliant concerto. His themes, lines and characters tell the story on the page. This is a gift that few playwrights possess—his words alone are enough to make a compelling play.

Few are the actors and/or directors who can keep up with the caliber of Kimball’s genius. But, coming back to the concerto metaphor, it is still beautiful, even if the musicians aren’t quite as skilled as the composer.

Michael Crockett, as the pilot, Dave, plays his role with what can only be described as faint concern. His response to winning $12 million is bewildering (I have seen people find a $5 dollar bill on the street and react with more elation). The reaction to learning of his wife’s illness is more dramatic, but not by much. Without defined actions, there is no defined character.
Lisa Stathoplos, as the dying wife, Emily, gives a one-note performance in Act I, tinged with anger on one end and exhaustion on the other. In the second act, she redeems herself somewhat through a series of flashbacks, primarily with her mother (played by Susan Turner, who needs only to put on a character’s shoes and her body is filled with the character’s soul). But, again, it’s limited to extremes of elation and rage. I wanted so much to see inside this woman’s soul, and was frustrated when I didn’t. Stathoplos’ concentration seemed focused on the exhaustion of her character’s ordeal, and while exhaustion is a very real part of cancer, it’s not that interesting to watch. 

When Carolyn Connolly, as the couple’s fiery daughter, Carey, steps onto the stage, a much-needed blast of energy explodes into the room. Upon hearing about her father’s lottery prize and her mother’s diagnosis, she goes through stages of confusion, denial, anger and confusion again, most of which she relates to the only way she can—through sarcasm. It’s through Carey’s frustration that we at last get to share in the emotions of such heavy circumstances.

Also shouldering a heavy share of the work are Kate Bossi, as Emily’s best friend, Kate; and Sara Demos, as Kate’s depressed, gothic daughter, Stafford-Chenille (or, as she likes to be called, Snake). Bossi, as an actress, is so energetic, bouncy and over-the-top that she doesn’t blend in at all with her cast mates, who strive for realism. She’s so in the moment, so loveable, that I don’t care that I’m aware that it’s Kate Bossi—and not Kate DeLong—whom I’m watching. She makes me care about her character enough to want to watch everything she does.

Demos is believably dark and morose as Snake, the only character who can seem to relate to Emily’s pain. Emily’s connection with Snake was Stathoplos’ only truly convincing moment onstage.

Gregg Trzaskowski, as the doctor, executes a breathtakingly understated performance. Trzaskowski is much like Turner, in that his transformation into his character is thorough and complete. He interprets his character’s patience, honesty and compassion with small, subtle moments. The doctor has a strong code of ethics, which he makes clear on several occasions. But, when he makes a decision that violates this code, he turns his back to the situation. The slight movement is more powerful than a piercing scream of agony, and lingers with us far longer.

Most of the performances remain unconnected, and perhaps this was director Mike Howard’s plan. Maybe his intention was to have each character spin off into his own universe—it’s certainly realistic. But, as a piece of art, it’s like a patchwork quilt in which the pieces don’t quite fit. It just doesn’t look right.

One of the stellar things about the production was Rachel Burr Canavan’s management of the play. No one quite realizes the thousands of details left to the stage manager, or how much the show depends on this crucial role. As they say many times in the play, the secret of comedy is timing. This is also the secret of theater, and Burr Caravan makes sure this show has the timing down pat.

“The Secret of Comedy” runs on Friday, Sept. 21 and Saturday, Sept. 22 at 8 p.m., and Sunday, Sept. 23 at 7 p.m.,  at the Players’ Ring, 105 Marcy St., Portsmouth. Call 603-436-8123 for reservations.