Those who like British sex farces will likely love Cygnet’s new production of Michael Frayn’s “Noises Off.” On the other hand, those who dislike British sex farces still might enjoy “Noises Off.”

Frayn is a remarkably gifted playwright (he also scripted the cerebral and multi-award-winning “Copenhagen”). And in his 1982-originated “Noises” (called by former NY Times critic Frank Rich “the funniest play written in my lifetime,”), Frayn wickedly spoofs all the conventions of B.s.f’s, even while using all those conventions hilariously. The screamingly funny and intricate second act ranks among the cleverest comedy writing ever.

Yet all that ingenuity goes for naught if anyone in the nine-member cast can’t handle the hellish physical and histrionic challenges of farce, particularly this one. Thankfully, and notably to those of us who’ve seen “Noises” with less-than-stellar acting and sluggish staging, director Sean Murray has a crème de la crème ensemble, helping him deliver the comedy’s zippy zaniness.

The plot — not that such niceties matter much in these enterprises — concerns a small English theater company planning to do a touring version of a fluffy piece called “Nothing On.” In it, a wealthy playwright supposedly has gone into tax exile in Spain, leaving his housekeeper to oversee his many-doored manse. A realty agent and his bimboesque girlfriend, figuring the home is virtually empty, plan a session of afternoon delights before the agent’s appointment to show the place to an Arab sheikh. Then the owner and his wife unexpectedly return for a quick visit, hoping to avoid detection and the resultant huge tax penalty. Completing the motley mix is a thief who expects to sneak into an easy target. All these “Nothing On” performers are complemented by the director, stage manager and assistant stage manager.

Rosina Reynolds, Jason Heil

Photo by Daren Scott

The first act of “Noises Off” introduces these characters (probably drawn from Frayn’s experience with similar troupes) doing their final rehearsal, which is either “tech” or “dress” — they can’t decide. As the housekeeper (these descriptions pertain to the “Nothing On” players, NOT the Cygnet cast), the aptly named Dotty tends to forget her lines and substitute malapropisms. Gary, the agent, is unable to complete a sentence, finishing potential profundities with “you know.” Brooke, the girlfriend, is a talent-free airhead whose casting is soon explained. Fred, the playwright, is totally insecure, still questioning his character’s lines and behavior, and subject to nosebleeds at any hint of violence. Belinda, his wife, is the cast mother hen and know-it-all, including backstage gossip. And Selsdon, the thief, is a drunk, hearing-impaired and slipping into dementia.

Lloyd, the director, is mostly interested in his next job, staging “Richard III,” but still manages to find time for affairs with Brooke and assistant stage manager Poppy. Manager-understudy Tim Allgood (another Dickensian name) is overworked and fatigued. Adding to the combustibility, Gary and the older Dotty are having a thing, shaky because of his hotheaded jealousy, and Belinda is attracted to Fred.

For the second act, Sean Fanning’s apropos facade set is revolved, giving us a view of the backstage chaos during the scene rehearsed in Act 1. It’s a month later, and the play is falling apart because of cast ineptitude and intrigue. Dotty met with Fred, so Gary keeps trying to hurt him. Lloyd is trying to choose Brooke over Poppy, but there’s a complication. And Selsdon has become unreliable, obsessed with hiding and drinking his booze. It soon becomes indescribably wacky, with Frayn trotting out all the genre’s clichés, including puns, pratfalls, pants-dropping, life-threatening chases and innocent behavior mistaken for sex acts.

The set again revolves for the somewhat anticlimactic third act. It’s another month later, and the company is winding up its run in total disarray, this time with all the disasters visible to the audience.

Give kudos all around, with hopes that everyone makes it through the play’s demanding run. Sandy Campbell, a fine Belinda, took a spill that didn’t appear to be part of George Ye’s accurate stunt choreography. Rosina Reynolds, as Dotty, proves once more that she is equally adept with any role’s verbal and physical challenges. Jessica John, flowingly blonde in the most prominent of Peter Herman’s designed wigs, appropriately non-acts as Brooke, the requisite ingénue who spends most of the play in her underwear. Kim Strassburger, as the put-upon Poppy, again demonstrates her talent for comic victimhood — and also loses part of her clothing.

The men, too, come through as needed. Jonathan McMurtry is especially laugh-getting with Selsdon’s befuddlement. Albert Dayan captures Lloyd’s highs and lows, Craig Huisenga is a properly pathetic Fred, and Jason Connors earns much sympathy as do-what’s-necessary Tim. Jason Heil, as Gary, is abundantly frantic, and gets subjected to the colorful polyester pinnacle of Corey Johnston’s costumes.

Bonnie L. Durben’s prop design provides all the essentials, plus a chuckle-worthy cactus plant that resembles male genitalia. Emmelyn Thayer’s coached dialect occasionally fades in the frenzy, but that hardly matters. Matt Lescault-Wood’s sound design and Eric Lotze’s lighting contribute to the erratic ambience.

Frayn does periodic rewrites of “Noises Off,” dropping dated material and adding twists, but human nature and theater peccadilloes remain much the same, so the play should be a recurring hit for even more decades.

Cast and credits