from
the Albany Times Union
Both tricks, treats in 'Irma Vep' mystery
By Michael Eck Enid.
Edgar.
The names themselves are not inherently funny,
though by their very alliteration they do
lend themselves to humor.
But repeat them over and over, varying rhythm,
inflection and intent and they become as satisfying
-- and even as ribald -- as any punch line.
Such is the genius of Charles Ludlam.
Ludlam called his own troupe The Ridiculous
Theatrical Company -- a fitting moniker for
the recipients of his eccentric, downright
loopy verbal handicrafts. Unfortunately, Ludlam
died of AIDS in 1987, robbing the world of
one of its brightest -- if downright weirdest
-- comic minds.
Curtain Call Theatre is offering his best
known play, "The Mystery of Irma Vep"
as a Halloween treat (or perhaps trick) through
Nov. 18. The Latham venue often draws strong
crowds with broad comedies and British farces,
but Ludlam up-ends that equation by pretending
to be both while actually being a smart aleck
and subversive a la Joe Orton.
Imagine Oscar Wilde-meets-Steve Martin and
you'll be getting warm. Imagine Oscar Wilde-meets-Steve
Martin in drag and you'll be even warmer.
"Vep" takes place -- for the most
part -- in a desolate English country house,
but this is not Agatha Christie (whose "Witness
for the Prosecution" is at Curtain Call
in January). And only two actors play all
the roles, but it's not "Greater Tuna"
either (which was on the CCT stage in July).
Despite those limitations, Wednesday's crowd
found plenty to laugh about. The casting,
by director Cindy Brizzell-Bates, is both
perfect and predictable. Aaron Holbritter
and Kris Anderson are CCT regulars, but the
play almost seems to be written for them,
particularly Anderson, who has a real feel
and sense of time for such whacked-out stuff.
Many of the laughs Wednesday came between
lines, when long beats and arched eyebrows
proved as potent as Ludlam's words.
And Ludlam does love words. "Vep"
is peppered with dirty puns, bad jokes, intentional
mispronunciations and quotes from classic
plays and poems. The image of the hefty Holbritter
in a white dress spewing Poe's "The Raven,"
for example, drew guffaws.
What makes it an appropriate Halloween show
is that all of the action centers on the vampires,
werewolves and mummies (especially in the
third scene, which shifts the setting to Egypt)
of Gothic novels. But all of that horror show
stuff is simply viewed by Ludlam as one more
excuse for physical comedy and silly bits
(like actors' echoing their own voices in
a tomb).
Needless to say, considering all the changes,
set designer Dee Mulford and costume designer
Lisa Hailes deserve mention every bit as much
as Holbritter and Anderson.
You won't mistake this production for a Broadway
play, but you will laugh.
Michael
Eck, a freelance writer from Albany, is a
frequent contributor to the Times Union.
