Each May at the Players' Ring, to honor F. Gary Newton, founder of the theater and man of many accomplishments, they present a production by the winner of the aptly named Newton Award. Newton fully supported new playwrights, rather than relying on the same writers and plays over and over again; he was a man of vision, and few could match his courage. This year's production of the fourth annual award-winner takes the shape of "Death at the Dorcey" by John Tumulty.

The story begins in the lobby of the Dorcey Hotel, an old ramshackle establishment that has seen better days-or decades. It's 1938, somewhere in England. Sidney Weeks (Jeremiah Johnson), the owner's randy 18-year-old son, is chasing the gorgeous maid, Nancy (Vanessa Gourde), around. Shortly Sylvia Weeks (Wendy Lannon) makes an appearance, with the big announcement that Ty Robbins, the reviewer and something of a celebrity (played by Andrew Nowacki), will be coming to stay; although the place is hardly habitable, she hastily finds acceptable lodgings by throwing Sidney out of his room.

There are a myriad of other guests who look forward to Mr. Robbins' arrival, as well: Father Tim Toomey (George Hosker Jr.), an Irish man of the cloth with a passion for hiking; Mrs. Sykes (Marian Mariangelli), a vivacious and rambunctious lady with a taste for gin; and Hermann Himmler (Tim Murphy), an injured German confined to his wheelchair who doesn't speak much but takes plenty of abuse from his grunting nurse (Deb Stokel). Flamboyant Dabney Grant (Ian Fermald), a particularly gloomy writer, is lurking about, as is the staunch and formal Major Smyth Bleinham. When all the happy guests are under one roof, a murder takes place, and wouldn't you know, damn near everyone has some sort of motive.

The writing is, forgive the pun, paper thin. The plot can be marked on a map pretty much from the first few sentences, and the humor is groan inducing. (At one point, Sylvia has to say, "I had such a lovely sex last night... er, I meant sleep, of course.") However, the cast, who have worked together time and again over the years, inject their energy and synergism, bringing the gaunt play to life. Under the direction of Hosker, they make the audience enjoy the fact that they're laughing at predictable jokes and storylines.

Wendy Lannon is particularly consistent in her role as Sylvia, the delicate but ambitious proprietor; Jeremiah Johnson is a jewel in his portrayal of a youth barely into long pants and desperate to be a man. Vanessa Gourde, as the saucy maid, is hilarious, but her scream-which is repeated again and again-got to be a bit head-splitting after a bit. Norm Smith's Major was full of himself and proper, but hard to understand at times. George Hosker Jr., the hiking priest, gave an understated performance, which worked especially well in the throes of all the large characters bursting around him. Ian Fernald and Andrew Nowacki were delightfully peacockish and extravagant in their portrayals as well.

There is one plot twist, very close to the end, that really threw me and, I have to admit, clicked the entire experience up a notch or two.

The set design (not credited in the program to any one person) is brilliant. The creators crafted an actual small world up on the tiny stage of the Players' Ring; each prop and picture and set piece looks as though it's been there, together with the others, for years. The lighting by Stan Zabecki and the sound effects by JR Belanger work together beautifully to create the illusion of the Dorcey.

"Death at the Dorcey" is at the Players' Ring, 105 Marcy St., Portsmouth, through June 5, Fridays and Saturdays at 8 p.m. and Sundays at 7 p.m. Tickets are $10 for adults and $8 for students and seniors. Call 603-436-8123 for reservations and information.