Upon first seeing the cartoonish set _ complete with a series of doors and a fuchsia and teal color scheme _ for The Nora Theatre Company's production of Mike Leigh's Smelling a Rat, it seems hard to believe Leigh's description of his 1988 play as an "anti-farce." Mission accomplished. Under director Daniel Gidron's well-balanced direction, The Nora delivers a tightly constructed production that flawlessly balances comedic entertainment and subtle social satire.
The general premise that propels Smelling a Rat is simple enough: a pompous and wealthy owner of a pest control business, Rex Weasel, comes home early from his Christmas vacation _ only to find upon his unexpected arrival the equally unexpected presence of two couples _ an employee and his wife (Vic and Charmaine Maggot) along with Weasel's son Rock and Rock's girlfriend Melanie-Jane Beetles _ in his London flat. Prerequisite farcical chaos ensues - but with one substantial difference: rather than rush his characters through a harried script that relies wholly on sight gags and physical comedy, Leigh conscientiously slows down the pace of action, allowing the audience to peer into the substance behind his character's seemingly comedic context. The outlines filled in, Leigh presents a script that it is both genuinely funny and substantive.
The cast of Smelling a Rat is its backbone and driving force; the actors in this production possess the natural sense of comedic timing and innate ability to create humor without succumbing to caricature. Likewise, credit must be given to director Gridon for choreographing the action of the play in perfect time with its script.
As Victor and Charmaine Maggott, Paul Kerry and Stephanie Dorian are perfect. Though it is true that their respective characters are the ones with the most potential to flesh out a well-rounded role, Kerry and Dorian do so with such ease and novelty that their performances could very well be the focal point of The Nora's production. Kerry and Dorian play off of each other with an organic ease; whether fumbling in and out of that ever-present series of doors or commenting on some of the more realistic social issues probed by the script, these two actors create their characters with complete charm and ease. These veterans of the Boston theatre scene grace the stage with a contagious sense of energy and dynamism.
Completing the ensemble, Randall A. Forsythe plays his Rex Weasel as the slightly more subdued version of Darrell Hammond's impersonation of Sean Connery on Saturday Night Live. However, Forsythe imbues his character with a callousness that fills out the outline of caricature. His character his quite adequately embodied by the contrast between his clown-like golfing attire and the severity of his personality. His range of performance seems somewhat limited, however, as he seems to shy away from venturing into slightly more refined tones of emotion.
As Rex's son Rock, Charles Linshaw aptly combines the tension and blandness that define his character. Linshaw is a highly effective stage presence _ though his role gives him few spoken words, Linshaw is one of the most palpable performers on stage. From his facial expressions to the way he shifts his feet, Linshaw creates a complete and fully realized character in Rock.
Mara Sidmore comes on too thick at times as Rock's girlfriend, Melanie-Jane Beetles. With her English accent wavering, Sidmore's performance initially came across as imbalanced _ too flustered, too intense, too flighty, too na??ve, too cartoonish. While all of the characters at times teeter on the brink of extremity, Melanie-Jane seems to spend most of her time lounging on this very place. As the show progresses, Sidmore's character becomes much more alive and much more real; the second act is certainly Sidmore's stronger act. Sidmore's strongest moment comes when she engages in a prolonged conversation with Rock towards the end of the show - but never speaks once. Without extreme vocal tricks to fall back on, Sidmore adroitly fleshes out a very human character that is defined by her insecurities and pain rather than her exaggerated manner.
Set, sound, and lighting design complete this already solid production. Eric Levinson's scenic design is a perfect fit, satirizing the stereotypical farce set of the wall-of-doors by underscoring the most clich?© element of this form of design. By housing the characters in what is essentially a large pink box, Levinson fulfils a multi-purpose task: he creates a setting that simultaneously evokes classical farce and subtly satirizes contemporary British society, especially underscoring the class divide of Thatcher-era London.
Likewise, Scott Pinkey's lighting design is both pragmatic and lends to the general function of the production. Pinkey uses lighting to create separate registers of space on the stage, breaking up the otherwise linear set. The amount of light on stage is also varied according not only to the action as dictated by the script, but also by the general mood.
Sound design also enhances the production. From the opening sequence to which Rex Weasel's arrival is tightly choreographed, to more subtle, period touches like Madonna's "Crazy for You," sound is used precisely and productively to emphasize the show's action and the dialogue.
With its tight script directly filled with humor and more discreetly shaded with social satire, The Nora's production of Mike Leigh's Smelling a Rat aptly lives up to Leigh's mission of creating an "anti-farce" by creating a production whose slamming doors yield more than just laughter.
Smelling a Rat runs through November 10 at the Boston Playwrights' Theatre.
Tickets are $25. For more information, contact The Nora at 617-491-2026.
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