items tagged with Dryden Meints

When attending a detective spoof with the title Red Herring, you probably shouldn’t expect its storyline(s) to hold together in a way that makes much sense, and Michael Hollinger’s farcical noir seems particularly all-over-the-map; somehow, in 130 minutes, the play’s author squeezes in adultery, bigamy, murder, treason, neutron-bomb testing, the McCarthy hearings, a show-tune-loving Soviet, and a top-secret microfilm stashed in a block of Velveeta.

Peppy, cheeky, and somewhat unsatisfying – though in ways that are rarely the fault of its current Timber Lake Playhouse presentation – Flight of the Lawnchair Man boasts a friendly spirit, a number of witty and weird diversions, and a brisk running time, clocking in (with the intermission) at a mere 105 minutes. Yet for all of its strengths, and unlike its determined hero, this musical comedy never really takes off. Director Chuck Smith’s production is ingeniously designed and energetically performed, but the show itself is a little bit You’re a Good Man, Charlie Brown, a little bit The Wedding Singer, and a little bit Bat Boy, and about as stylistically awkward as that description implies.

After an extended silent-movie montage – one featuring clips from F.W. Murnau’s horror classic Nosferatu – and the appearance of the show’s title, the Timber Lake Playhouse’s Sunset Boulevard opens with screenwriter Joe Gillis (Brandon Ford) at the bottom of a swimming pool. Granted, the water, like that montage, is a multimedia projection, and Gillis is standing (and singing) rather than floating face-down. But the Act I prelude is still enough like the opening to Billy Wilder’s beloved Hollywood noir that fans of the Sunset Boulevard movie will likely smile in recognition and appreciation, and we’re returned to this scene of a future crime at the start of the musical’s second act.

These are the two, and only, times that Timber Lake’s production will find itself underwater.