Yes, the middle word in the title is sex. Do we even need some kind of catchy introduction to get your attention?
Actually, Santa Maria Civic Theatre’s latest show is mostly about over-the-top comedy. Premiering in 1979, it was the first of 23 plays written by the team of Billy Van Zandt and Jane Milmore, whose TV credits include Newhart, The Wayans Bros., and Yes, Dear.
The setup is this: Jon Trachtman (Benjamin Oh) is two weeks away from marrying Kate (Angela Hutt-Chamberlin), and has no idea that she’s having an affair with his roommate, a guy named Leslie (Don Schuettee). But Jon has a secret of his own: For years, he’s been telling the Internal Revenue Service that Leslie is his wife in order to save money on taxes. Now, the “happy couple” is about to be audited. What’s the solution? Since this is a farce, it’s having Leslie dress in drag and play house with Jon long enough to fool the auditor—what else?
The excuses why Kate can’t pretend to be Mrs. Leslie Trachtmann—“She’s not tall enough! She can’t keep a secret!”—are pretty flimsy, but at least they’re dispensed with early and quickly.
Cross-dressing for comedy goes at least as far back as Shakespeare, and although the motivations differ from story to story, the results are generally pretty similar. This production delivers everything you’d expect: Schuettee is decked out in a frowsy wig, an overstuffed bosom, smeared lipstick, a several-sizes-too-small dress, and high-heeled shoes to stumble around in. He’s got the laugh-inducing shrill falsetto voice down pat. Even when he’s just regular male Leslie, he’s pouring on the physical humor with a running gag about getting severe allergy attacks whenever he’s caught in a lie.
Oh’s Jon is a sympathetic schemer, although at times he seems a bit too angry for the light tone of the play. Hutt-Chamberlin is a strong leading lady, as always.
Bill Kirkpatrick’s performance as auditor Floyd Spinner is the highlight of the production, the precise picture of the kind of guy you wouldn’t want examining your taxes. It’s fun to watch his grumpy, frumpy exterior slowly melt as Jon plies him with more and more alcohol.
Kristina Clark-Kupihea plays Jon’s mother, Vivian, who shows up unexpectedly to meet Jon’s fiancée—and meets Leslie-in-drag instead. Clark-Kupihea’s shocked reaction at this moment is one of the comic high points of the show. The actress is also great at remaining “unconscious” onstage for a very long time—a much more difficult task than it sounds.
Aubrey Hutt adds an extra dose of hilarious hyperactive hysteria to the evening as Connie, Leslie’s not-quite-ex girlfriend. He’s told her that he’s going through some changes—you can imagine the conclusions she draws once she sees him.
It’s interesting to see SMCT regular Mike Parsley in the bizarre role of Jon and Leslie’s unbalanced, paranoid landlord. Anyone who has ever lived under the roof of such a person will jump every time Parsley bursts through the door.
Richard Dresp arrives late in the show, but scores some laughs with a few well-timed lines.
All the characters are very broad as written, but well played by the likable cast.
The plot consists of one wacky complication after another, which means lots of screaming, running around, fainting—all done with high energy from the cast. There are also some witty, well-delivered one-liners along the way. Of course, in order for you to buy the plot, you have to believe that the other characters will believe any flying-by-the-seat-of-his-pants lie Jon comes up with.
When the play premiered in the 1970s, the silliness might have had a bit more cultural context, with the landlord, mother, and tax man representing the judgmental establishment, and Jon and Leslie—who are supposed to be struggling musicians—representing the freewheeling counterculture. At one point, Jon also makes a reference to Richard Nixon. Setting the play in the present diminishes that context, which also renders some of the characters’ motivations bewildering. For example, Mother Trachtman is utterly scandalized by the idea that Jon married a woman he had already lived with. Still, the idea of going to extreme lengths to save money is something everyone can relate to in today’s economy.
The action takes place in an urban bachelor pad decorated with incredibly cool music posters. A unique feature to the set is a large window that looks “out” on another building across the alley. (This becomes important during a bit of slapstick comedy in Act Two.)
Director Johannes S. Beals’ enthusiasm for the material is abundantly evident onstage. If zany farce is what tickles your funny bone, you’ll love Love, Sex, and the I.R.S.
Freelancer Brent Parker had an extra funny bone added to his arm in a complex and experimental surgery. Contact him through Arts Editor Shelly Cone at scone@santamariasun.com.
This article appears in Sep 17-24, 2009.
