When Black Comedy begins, the stage is in total darkness, but we hear actors moving about and talking normally, describing objects in a room - chairs, a piece of sculpture and so on û as if they see them clearly. Suddenly bright stage lights come on, as the characters exclaim: "Oh, a fuse must have blown. I can't see a thing." This is the brilliant conceit that Peter Shaffer uses in this short comedy from early in his career. It is totally different from his dark, dramatic, best-known plays, Equus and Amadeus, and is a total delight.
The players are in the dark, stumbling around and bumping into each other, while we see everything clearly. Only when someone strikes a match do we see a sudden dimming of the light. The clever device informs a play that is interesting in itself. A social-climbing young man who has no insight into people's feelings (get the point?) is about to meet his prospective father-in-law, so he borrows û without permission - expensive furnishings from the apartment of his antiques-dealer neighbor, who is temporarily out of town. The young man, Brindsley, also wants to impress a wealthy art patron with his sculpture. A repairman is summoned from the power company, and when he arrives he is mistaken, in the dark, for the wealthy patron. Then the neighbor returns unexpectedly, and walks into Brindsley's apartment looking to borrow a flashlight. Finally, Brindsley's mistress drops by for a visit, not knowing that her lover is planning to marry this new, younger woman.
I am reminded of the over-packed ship's stateroom scene from the Marx Brothers' A Night At The Opera. Confusion reigns, and here, unlike the Marx film, it is in contrast to the terror of imminent exposure.
The dominating figure is the prospective father-in-law, an ex-army colonel who is played superbly by David Howey. This former member of Britain's Royal Shakespeare Company, now teaching in Philadelphia, creates a strong characterization.
Todd Lawson is the bumbling Brindsley, who becomes entangled in a telephone cord and a lot more. Jeffrey Bean is hilarious and poignant as the antiques dealer, playing him with an appropriate and restrained amount of gayness. Each of the other cast members contribute delicious moments too. David P. Gordon's set is perfect, and Jiri Zizka directs physical comedy that never crosses over into slapstick.
