‘Noises Off’ at Seacoast Rep

Michael Frayne’s “Noises Off,” at Seacoast Repertory Theatre through June 3, is a three-act play about a British theatrical troupe. The troupe is comprised of the director, Lloyd (Bob Vernon), who clearly feels he’s above the material and the cast; Dotty (Carolyn Hause), a saucy character actress; leading man Garry (Dan Beaulieu), who is having an affair with the much-older Dotty; dapper, ditzy, lonely Frederick (Ed Batchelder); gorgeous Brooke (Danica Carlson), whose affair with Lloyd keeps her from resigning; the ancient, alcoholic character actor Selsdon (Don LaBranche); the stage manager, Poppy (Samantha Cistulli), who is having a secret affair with Lloyd; the always cheerful and/or perpetually Prozac’d Belinda (Merrill Peiffer); and the assistant stage manager Tim (Andre LeMothe), who weathers the insanity and still brings the ship into port without killing anyone. 

The troupe is performing a typical English bedroom farce called “Nothing On.” In Act I, we see the cast in the wee hours of dress rehearsal. In Act II, the show is in mid-run, and we’re watching the dramatic exchanges that happen backstage.In Act III, we’re onstage, and it’s closing night of the tour.

Act I comes off beautifully, giving us a chance to see all of the characters rehearsing onstage and to see them offstage, when they break character to ask questions or work out a bit, etc. Carlson’s ditziness is a one-dimensional delight; Beaulieu has his persnickety perfectionism down to a science; Hause is a lovable curmudgeon; Batchelder convinces us he couldn’t think his way out of a paper bag; and the addled La Branche steals the show every time he takes the stage. But there isn’t a big difference between any of the actor characters and their “onstage” counterparts, which is a bit unsatisfying. 

In Act II, the versatile set, with the help of a few reversible panels, becomes “backstage.” We’re supposed to hear the actors performing Act I, as they go “onstage” to create the true feeling of backstage during a performance. Carlson and Peiffer deliver well on this, but the others struggle, so the atmosphere is somewhat lost. There are some clever devices—each time the actors walk by the “window” of the set, they have to bend down, lest they be seen by the “audience.” But the interplay between the actors is mostly muted whispers—several going on at once—which make it difficult to know which one to watch.

By Act III, “Nothing On” is in shambles, but the cast has to get through it. All of the characters seem to have made the collective decision to give up and just go through the motions. I wish they hadn’t thrown it in quite so quickly; I missed the fight to save the terminal play. Peiffer’s character alone fights till the bitter end, and we root for her at every ridiculous turn.

Several of the casting choices are wonderful—Hause is grumpily adorable, Cistulli’s frantic desperation breaks our hearts, Beaulieu has never been better and Andre LeMothe rolls with the punches, watching with the calm expressions of someone who’s been through it before.

The blocking can be the real trick of this play, though, and there are some problems. Act II is supposed to be chaotic, for example, but it is chaotic to the point of confusion. And, between Acts II and III, the entire cast stays onstage in slightly dimmed light and converts the set from “backstage” to “onstage”; it’s not made clear why, how, or even if this is part of the story, or if it’s the actual actors helping out a very strenuous set change.

John McCluggage is a brave director. He breaks some conventions and it works, he breaks others and it doesn’t. But through it all, his actors know where they are going. Despite the confusing tactics the play demands, the story gets told and gets laughs. Bravo.

Dane Leeman’s brilliant design and Billy Butler’s construction give us one of the most creative sets of the season. Lighting and costume designers Matt Gruminski and Karin Bendeck’s work beautifully underscore the insanity.