by James Wilkinson
‘The Importance of Being Ernest’ – Written by Oscar Wilde. Directed by Danielle Fauteux Jacques. Musical Direction/Sound Design: David Reiffel. Costume Design: Elizabeth Rocha. Scenic Design: Marc Poirier. Dialect Coach: Christopher Sherwood Davis. Produced by Apollinaire Theatre Company at the Chelsea Theater, November 19-December 19, 2021
Apollinaire Theatre’s The Importance of Being Ernest is a stately affair. The cucumber sandwiches are cut neatly into precise triangles with the crust removed. The porcelain tea sets sparkle under the stage lights. The hats come with a variety of plumage and sit atop actors who have been upholstered into their costumes, (quick shout out to costume designer Elizabeth Rocha, whose period work is excellent). The mood is loose and silly without ever tumbling into full-on goofy territory. Without question, it manages to do absolutely everything you expect an Oscar Wilde play to do. I’ll confess to walking into the show hoping to see the creative team take a bigger swing on the material but getting distracted by the show that could have been does a disservice to the charms of the show that’s in front of you. There’s a good-heartedness to the production. You feel warm toward the endeavor. We’re not being sold anything. It’s not making any promises it can’t fulfill. The actors on stage are working as honestly as they can and offering up their best. “Let’s just have a laugh at frivolous things and have some fun,” they seem to be saying. Indeed, why not? It may appear a small matter, but it’s a kernel of an idea reminding us why we go to the theater in the first place.
The production marks a revisiting for Apollinaire. Ernest was scheduled to premiere in the early spring of 2020 before the pandemic shut down live events. Now they’re back and in a strange O. Henry-worthy twist, the production might actually be the better for it. The cast of nine was cut down to four with each actor bouncing between different characters throughout the evening. It may be a familiar bit, but when deployed by director Danielle Fauteux Jacques, it provides this production a particular zip. It’s a given that a character is a persona for an actor, a mask that they slip on and off for the entertainment of the audience. Apollinaire’s production takes this convention and lets us in on the joke. The first time you see Ron Lacey come on stage as Lady Bracknell, you assume it’s merely for practical purposes. Three actors are on stage, one actor is off. Who else could possibly making an entrance as the grand old lady? But as the show goes on and the hijinks in Wilde’s script escalate, the precise logic of who is playing who begins to collapse. Actors start swapping roles mid-scene and you get the feeling that the reasoning behind the choice is simply that someone tossed out the idea in rehearsal and the group went, ‘why not?’ Well, why not? The humor in Wilde’s script hinges on the idea of social conventions being random bits of nonsense. Apollinaire’s production, in its own gentle way, points to the same nonsense in theatrical conventions.
It’s a good group of performers, all of whom dig into the material for every last morsel of comedy. As the two friends at the center of the story, Brooks Reeves and Kody Grassett nail the stiff-upper-lip tone. Grassett’s Algernon struts about the stage with a perpetual inner smirk, content to lean back and enjoy the chaos around him. Reeves as Jack comes on the scene with a more sincere and mellow energy. His character doesn’t indulge in the same detached way and you feel Reeves sincerity in the part. He’s essentially the straight man of the piece, the one just trying to get from point A to point B with as little trouble as possible. The two are balanced out by Abigail Erdelatz, who at different points plays Cecily and Gwendolyn, the objects of both men’s affections. Erdelatz doesn’t plant her flag in the spotlight by going big and broad with her characters. The potential is there, (particularly with a great comic tea scene between her and Grassett as Gwen), but the actress keeps one foot on the ground and sells you on the loopy logic her characters follow. Somehow, she manages to make it all sound so reasonable. Ron Lacey gets many of the play’s best one-liners as Lady Bracknell. He doesn’t deliver the jokes with a hammer, pressing down text and constantly winking to let you know that you should be laughing. He holds back, sweeping across the stage in an elegant manner, letting the bits of humor slip out so that they can be enjoyed for the pearls they are.
It might just be that we’ll have to relearn how to unclench and enjoy ourselves as the theaters open back up. Apollinaire’s Ernest isn’t the first comedy to have premiered post-COVID. There have been others, some of which have drawn raucous responses. But sections of the Ernest audience sitting around me seemed hesitant to join in. It’s as though they didn’t trust the jokes and comedic performances in front of them for being what they were: funny for the sole purpose of being funny. There’s something almost shocking about a production this nakedly simple. You can’t break it into parts. Apollinaire’s production succeeds precisely because it keeps things on the surface. Wilde would approve.For tickets and more information, visit their website:www.apollinairetheatre.com
Potential patrons should note that they will be expected to show a COVID vaccination card or negative COVID test in order to enter the theater. Masks will be required by the audience throughout the show. For more information on these policies, visit their website.
