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LETTERS FROM BOBOLINK FARM
By Barbara Tatham Johnson

 

WONDER BREAD AND MARGERINE

ARSENIC AND OLD LACE

Directed by Davis Robinson; written by Joseph Kesselring; set designed by Daniel Bilodeau; costumes designed by Patti Campbell

With: Maureen Tannian Butler, Dan Olmstead, David Greenham, Ian Austin, J. Paul Guimont, Janis Stevens, Anna Soloway, Mike Anthony, Frank Omar, Bill Van Horn, Mark S. Cartier, Matthew Archembault, Frank Omar, and Anthony Arnista

At the Theater at Monmouth in Monmouth, Maine

Performed in repertory from July 11, 2008 to August 23, 2008

Reviewed by Laurie Meunier Graves

The setting is a cozy living room in Brooklyn, New York, in the 1940s, where the twee elderly sisters, Abby and Martha Brewster, live with their dotty nephew “Teddy” Brewster, who thinks he is Teddy Roosevelt. The play opens with two policemen reflecting on how kind, generous, and unselfish the Brewster sisters are, on how they spend their days administering to the needs of others. Before the audience can say, “Bully,” Teddy is blowing his horn and charging San Juan Hill, aka the stairs to the second floor. And sparkling Abby Brewster reveals a little secret: There’s a dead body hidden in the window seat, and there are eleven more buried in the basement. Chuckling with delight, Abby and Martha plan the newest burial and congratulate themselves on how they and their poisoned elderberry wine have helped yet another lonely old man without a family. These “angels of mercy” have relieved the suffering of someone who is all alone and therefore has nothing to live for. (Are the victims themselves grateful for this intervention? Don’t ask questions.)

Into this merry household come a second nephew, Mortimer Brewster, a cynical theater critic, and his lovely fiancée Elaine Harper, the girl next door to the aunts. Except for being a critic, Mortimer is relatively sane, and when he finds the dead body in the window seat, he is appropriately horrified, knowing he must hide the body from Elaine and somehow make things right for his dear aunts. But his plans are foiled by his brother Jonathan, who, hard as it might be to believe, is even worse than the aunts. A true psychopath, Jonathan has come avisiting with a dead body tow as well as a chum, a “Dr. Einstein,” whose dubious skills with the knife are not exactly ethical. Will Mortimer succeed in protecting his aunts? Will the murderous Jonathan do away with Mortimer? Will Teddy ever finish digging the Panama Canal in the basement? Do chestnuts roast on an open fire?

Clearly, the Theater at Monmouth had a lot of fun with this play. Maureen Tannian Butler (Abby Brewster) and Janis Stevens (Martha Brewster) twinkled and tottered for all they were worth. David Greenham’s Teddy was so loud and bluff that I expect his voice carried all the way to the parking lot. Mike Anthony (Mortimer Brewster) played the straight man with both humor and aplomb, and Bill Van Horn (Jonathan Brewster) and Mark S. Cartier (Dr. Einstein) were a terrific duo. The rest of the cast was equally good, and going by the laughter, I would guess that the audience seemed to have as much fun as the players. And wonder of wonders, this cynical critic even laughed a few times herself.

However, in being true to the curmudgeon that resides deep in the heart of all critics, I did entertain just a few little doubts—call them questions, if you will—about whether Arsenic and Old Lace was a play that professional theater should perform. It could be the fact that this same play was the one chosen by my daughter’s high school senior class, and, at the time, I thought Arsenic and Old Lace was exactly the right production for their level of acting. Not to put too fine a point on it, but with its broad, stereotypical characters, its simple dialogue, and its silly plot, this is not exactly the most demanding play ever written. It could also be that I’ve been coming to the Theater at Monmouth for many, many years, when Chekhov and Molière kept company with Shakespeare and seemed like a much better fit. To my way of thinking, pairing Arsenic and Old Lace with Shakespeare is a little bit like serving instant pudding with Cool Whip for dessert after a gourmet meal.

To continue with the food analogy, I realize that all theaters must have bread-and-butter plays to keep things going. But Arsenic and Old Lace is several steps below bread and butter. To this jaded reviewer, it feels more like Wonder Bread and margarine, and it seems to me that the Theater at Monmouth should do better than this.   

 


 
 

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