Heidi Hamer, Suzanne Rakestraw, and Jane Simonsen in Exit Laughing
Paul Elliott has written for stage, TV, screen, theme parks, and corporate events. He's acted and directed, as well, and has spent many years in show business overall, though not in America's live-theatre capital New York City. There aren't enough "offs" in the world to describe how far off-Broadway Elliott's theatrical works have been performed. Turns out that doesn't matter, because the most famous of his not-that-famous plays, 2013's Exit Laughing, is here now at Geneseo's Richmond Hill Barn Theatre, and it is a damn good time. Director Mike Skiles and his cohorts have built an entertaining, satisfying production on the foundation of a solid script.
Elliott is from Tennessee, and Exit Laughing's five characters live just below it on the map, in Alabama – so I infer that the dialogue is authentic, though not the stereotypical south-of-the-Mason-Dixon-Line vernacular. (No one mentions "the vapors" or calls anyone "sugar pie.") Three of Skiles' actors employ a Southern accent, and two do not, which works wonderfully. From the little I'd known about the play beforehand, I'd assumed it would be an ultra-wacky farce. Refreshingly, it is not. There's definitely broad humor (here I mean "slapstick," not "woman" in Brooklyn-cabbie-speak), but during Thursday's opening-night performance it was played just right.
The plot kicks off, if you'll excuse the expression, with the death of Mary, one of a quartet of longtime friends who frequently get together for cards. The gang is meeting at Connie's house; the day of the visitation also happens to be their regular bridge night. Connie (Suzanne Rakestraw) is grounded even in her grief, yet despite her pragmatism, she exhibits just a tinge of Southern flutteriness and fret over the behavior of her daughter Rachel (Elizabeth Melville). She didn't go to the funeral, but is cranky because she's also having a bad day, having been stood up by a college classmate. Melville's evocation of this young woman's moods throughout is funny, as well as relatable.
Self-described "lush" Leona (Heidi Hamer) arrives, calling immediately for a drink. I was lucky to work with Hamer on this stage in 2016 – she was good then, and has since grown delightfully as an actor. A hairdresser, Leona has a moderately ornate coif crowned with teased hair in a bump, the rest in an up-do with a long, early-'70s corkscrew curl hanging on both sides. Her funereal weeds are enlivened with a blouse featuring swirly lines of green, blue, and white, which looks great next to the white-dotted black outfits her friends wear. Using these simple but striking patterns was a smart choice, rather than dressing all three in stark black head to toe. No costumer is credited, but all involved did very well.
The third surviving member of the group, sweetly confused Millie (Jane Simonsen), gets there last. Millie could be a less loquacious cousin of The Golden Girls' Rose Nylund, though it's not at all an impersonation, and Simonsen provides some of the funniest moments. Happily, Exit Laughing's actors relate as though they have known each other for decades. (We never see Mary, but we feel her presence throughout.) The three discuss a major problem: What should they do with Mary's urn, considering that previously unknown relatives have surfaced who want to bury it against the deceased's wishes? David Shaffer plays an unexpected visitor – a cop who surprises, then terrifies, the trio. Shaffer has comedic chops, too, and evokes other emotions as we, and all the characters, learn more about him.
All throughout, the actions and reactions of Skiles' five performers are enjoyable. Four of them are real-life teachers, which may be the basis of their prowess in timing and holding an audience's attention. Moreover, whether they have lines or not, each is always acting on a level just right for this intimate theatre-in-the-round. This is a well-rehearsed, tight show, with lots of props to handle. (As with the show's costumer, no props manager is credited, but that task is well done, too). Acting while executing so much physical activity is a tough challenge, and my admiration of the ensemble's skills grew as the show progressed. There's some humorous business with the urn, but the contents are not accidentally spilled, as cremains have been in way too many sitcoms. Bravo, Mr. Elliott! His description of their appearance is accurate, too. (The product of the crematorium is not a cloud of fine dust, no matter what you saw in The Big Lebowski.) As for content, there are some references to sexytimes, but no profanity. Thankfully, there are also no soliloquies, no preachiness, and just one simple, vital message: Live while you're still alive. And after the show, be sure to peruse the lobby for a visual epilogue: a photographic coda to this lighthearted, sometimes prickly, ultimately love-filled comedy.
Elliott wrote a sequel, Keep on Laughing, the premiere of which is now playing in the Cobblestone Theatre – a venue billed as "the smallest fixed-seat theatre in California." Clearly, it's no Richard Rodgers Theatre on the Great White Way. Just the same, I'd kind of like to be there this weekend. But this weekend, you should be in Geneseo seeing this one.
Exit Laughing runs at the Richmond Hill Barn Theatre (600 Robinson Drive, Geneseo IL) through April 21, and more information and tickets are available by calling (309)944-2244 and visiting RHPlayers.com.
