Exhibitionism

Noises Off

Running Time: 2 hrs, 10 min

When Michael Frayn’s Noises Off was first produced, it was almost universally hailed as the funniest play ever written. That’s right – the funniest play ever written. Now there’s some pretty stiff competition in there from a lot of different quarters, not the least of which is a little play about a bunch of fairies by a guy named Shakespeare, but there’s little question that Frayn’s play has more than a bit going for it. The plot revolves around a group of professional English actors preparing to tour a sex farce titled Nothing On. During the first act, we watch the final dress rehearsal, in which the aging female lead can’t remember which props she’s supposed to be handling, some of the almost innumerable doors on the set are not functioning, and the actor playing the most minor character is constantly disappearing in order to practice the art of imbibing. The second act takes place a month later, and we watch it from backstage, where the infighting and affairs that were established in the first act have become full-blown problems. In the third act, we return to the stage a few weeks later, and everyone seems to be purposely attempting to sabotage everyone else in front of a paying audience.

It’s funny stuff, and while this Naughty Austin production sometimes works, it has more than its share of troubles, beginning with the set. It’s not the design that’s lacking so much as the construction. Despite obvious expense, it appears flimsy, particularly the second level, which sags whenever people cross it. I’d like to say that I’m certain it’s safe, but I didn’t get a sense of solidity from it, and that was somewhat frightening. Almost as important, I didn’t get a sense of control from the actors. Frayn’s play has two levels: the play (about the actors) and the play-within-the-play (about the play the actors are performing). The production, however, has only one basic level: big, fast, and loud. Playing almost everything in this fashion doesn’t allow for subtlety, especially in the part of Frayn’s play that revolves around the actors rather than the characters, and most everyone’s delivery ends up flat. Also, because it’s so big, so fast, and so loud, it’s difficult to follow what’s going on. So much gets lost that, if you haven’t read the play, there comes a moment when one character enters and it’s not clear at all who he is or why he’s there. Also, with everything playing on one level, you don’t necessarily understand everything that’s said. Here, one of the actors never, ever enunciates, and I challenge anyone unfamiliar with the script to repeat, verbatim, any multiword sentence he utters. While an attempt is made to add British dialects to the play-within-the-play, none of the dialects work and thus end up distracting rather than enhancing. There are some wonderful pratfalls, and while individual actors have moments that rise above the group fray, mostly it’s just fray.

Any company choosing this script is making a bold move, as it’s an exceedingly difficult play to produce, at least as difficult, in its way, as any Shakespeare play. Choosing plays that are significantly less complicated and, thus, more easily approached may not be appealing to Naughty Austin and director Blake Yelavich, but in this case it might have been the best decision that could have been made.

This article appears in April 9 • 2004.