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Off Book

Reviewed by Bob Verini

Secret Rose Theater

Through Aug. 22

A modest variation on Noises Off with a hat tip to the musical Mystery of Edwin Drood, Khai Dattoli’s Off Book seemed to inspire considerable mirth in the small but indomitable crowd at the Secret Rose Theater on a recent Friday evening. I wish I could have shared more of that mirth, but I want to encourage the plucky young Falling Apples Theater Company because there’s an energy there that should be prized and refined.

The scene is a theater very like the one we are sitting in, amidst a flurry of activity around the opening, minutes away, of something called “Staging Room.” Its playwright, egotistical and bossy Brit Emily Roberts (Lauren Baldwin), is beside herself at the typos in her program bio. (This is alleged to be her “fiveth” produced play, among other things.) But director Jeffery (Matthew Bridges) has bigger fish to fry: He’s just learned that hunky leading man Matt Creston is on a plane to Hawaii for a movie role. (Boy, every time you think you’ve run the table in terms of 99-seat producing woes, something new comes along.)

Who will step into the pivotal role of “Terry”? Three options emerge. Stage manager Sam (Jay Aaseng) possesses a photographic memory, but also an extreme form of stage fright, as we see big time when he practices his terrified pre-curtain speech. Emily of course knows the lines, but bending Terry’s gender would require mass pronoun improvisation, not to mention a never-rehearsed gay twist on the plot. Jeffery seems the safest replacement, except that the climax of the play involves a passionate kiss between his character and that of Adriana (Jennifer Haley), who happens to be Jeff’s sister.

An intermission is called about 40 minutes in, at which point we in the real-life audience are invited to vote (here’s the Drood parallel) on which substitute “Terry” we’d most like to see in “Staging Room.” With perhaps excessive punctiliousness I declined to exercise the franchise, on the grounds that as a reviewer I’d just as soon not influence the people’s choice; and when we reassembled, long-suffering stage manager Jill (aren’t stage managers in plays always long-suffering? Anyway, Danielle Lazarakis does a nice, crisp, gloomy job of it) announces that Herr Direktor will step into the main role. And so he does, his nose permanently registering the smell of cauliflower cooking at the thought of the atrocity he will have to perpetrate at the end of the evening. (And believe me, I am not exaggerating Mr. Bridges’s expression of paralyzed nausea at the thought of Jeff kissing his real-life sis.) More of that dilemma in a moment, but it should be noted that things keep going wrong, in some measure because a mischievous actress neglects to replace a prop bottle of Southern Comfort with iced tea. As they used to say, hijinks ensue.

There are some, for sure. Besides Ms. Lazarakis’s sturdy support, playwright Dettoli assays the actress most gobsmacked by the unexpected onstage booze and does a grand job of gradually, hilariously deteriorating into Lindsay Lohan. Corsica Wilson’s sly Carly is a sultry foil to the menfolk played by Luis Selgas and Ryan Rowley, who themselves have numerous amusing moments. Funnier than almost anything else, actually, is the “Staging Room” program handed out to us during intermission. Not only are Emily’s typos in there, plus witty references to such past accomplishments as “How Beige Was My Jacket” and “Phallus,” but AWOL leading man Matt proudly announces in his bio, “I wouldn’t have missed this opportunity for the world!”

As I sort out my thoughts on how Off Book is off base, I keep coming back to decisions made or not made by director Paul McGee. He’s the one who encourages his playmakers in Act 1 to rattle off their lines at breakneck speed – all the actors and all their lines, so that for the first 40 minutes we get no sense of individuals operating at different internal and external rhythms, and that’s a recipe for forced artificiality if I ever heard one. Mr. McGee also seems unaware that in life – and hopefully on stage – people act to overcome their obstacles, not give in to them. His cast rushes around in Act 1 determined to be as frantic as possible, rather than trying to calm down and rise to the opening night occasion.

This is basic acting stuff, you understand, and it needs attention. We should see Sam trying to get through his practice curtain speech, not wallow in his difficulties. Jeffery should be making efforts to pull off the coolest, calmest, most capable Terry “Staging Room” could ask for – he’s the director after all; it’s his ass on the line! – rather than constantly registering “ewwwwwww” at what he’ll have to go through. The fun of farce is seeing characters manfully try to overcome obstacles and get defeated by them.

And then again, what’s so awful about Jeffrey’s obstacle? It’s just a little kiss (which could easily be faked), not nudity or simulated sex. Locally, just this past weekend, sibling celeb dancers Derek and Julianne Hough wrote a brief kiss into their “Move Tour” dance show, and it was both playfully executed and delightedly accepted. And after all, when you’re an actor inhabiting a role, you’re supposed to forget all the real-life given circumstances and embrace whatever character you’ve taken on.

In short, the awkwardness Mr. Bridges demonstrates, his primary characteristic, is way out of proportion to anything we can accept or enjoy. If Mr. McGee wasn’t prepared to direct him out of it, he might’ve persuaded Ms. Dattoli to make the final moments between brother and sister truly quease-inducing, so as to both motivate the actor’s scruples and give us the fun of anticipating an eleventh hour bombshell just around the corner.

Of course, your mileage may vary. You might see one of the other alternate “Terry”s. As a matter of fact, many of the departing patrons were delightedly saying “ooh, you have to come back and see the other two!” I got about a block away when it hit me: As a repeat customer, how could I know I’d be seeing Sam or Emily? I might have to come back a dozen times in order to catch the entire trio. Unless, of course, the voting is rigged? Damn, you just can’t trust the political process.

Secret Rose Theater, 11246 Magnolia Blvd., N. Hlwyd.; Fri.-Sat., 7:30 p.m.; Sun., 2 p.m.; through Aug. 22. (818) 766-3691, www.fallingapplesproductions.com.