A barrage of bad English accents tumble forth from this new comedy, plus a Scottish brogue thicker than worsted wool. In fact, everything is intentionally bad in this spoof of the country manor mystery—“a wildly costumed Piccadilly drama”—where the stiff upper lips are matched only by the number of eyes popping out of their sockets. And for the first twenty minutes or so, it’s like the best of Carol Burnett. Every British cliché is skewered here. A host introduces the play, “Masterpiece Theatre”-style, like John Houseman’s deranged cousin recently let out from the cellar. The story unfolds on a two-dimensional set that is supposed to look cheap and cheesy (to suit the narrative), and if you’re looking for gags aplenty, this is certainly the place to be. But don’t even ask for a plot synopsis. Something about a ghostly menace on the property, and the seduction of a young lady who literally blends into the furniture. “What’s that I smell?” burls the gamekeeper, played by Chris Hainsworth, as he strolls through the library of the big house. “Why it’s the unmistakable stench of the filthy rich.” Hainsworth attacks the role like he just wandered off the set of “Braveheart.” It’s a very funny performance, though the script—penned by Lisa Dillman, Rebecca Gilman, and Brett Neveu—can’t sustain its breakneck pace for very long. (Nicholas Minas and Noah Simon co-direct the Blindfaith Theatre production.) “He is a man among men—if the men are without penises,” was my favorite one-liner. But there aren’t enough of these gems to go around. (Nina Metz)
At the Storefront Theater, 66 E. Randolph, (312)742-8497. This production is now closed.
