Playwright: book, music & lyrics by Bob Walton and Jim Walton. At: Porchlight Music Theatre at Stage 773, 1225 W. Belmont Ave.. Tickets: 773-777-9884; www.porchlightmusictheatre.org; $39. Runs through: Oct. 6
Theater historians date the formula from 1984 and The Mystery of Irma Vep: you take a play with a complicated plotan Agatha Christie whodunit, say, or a slamming-doors bedroom farceand then propose to have only two actors play all the roles, on the convenient pretext of "wartime shortages," snowbound supporting casts or the reliable "backers' audition" conceit. What this does is to base the comedy in the sadistic spectacle of the hapless duo sprinting furiously through costume changes and multiple entrances, often re-appearing onstage gasping for breath, wigs and coat-sleeves askew, before being applauded at curtain call for their marathon-runner stamina more than for any thespian acumen. The popularity of these cheaply mounted stunt-turns often makes for structural overlap, rendering co-authors Bob and Jim Walton's premise suspiciously similar to several other listings in the skeleton-crew genre, but the difference in this Porchlight production is apparent from the beginning.
First, the action is paced leisurely enough for us to enjoy the Walton brothers' screwball plot, involvingwhattaya know?a pair of likewise songwriting brothers seeking their fortunes in Hollywood, portrayed byyou guessed it!actual singing-dancing brothers Adrian and Alexander Aguilar. Second, the small stage combines with Jeffrey D. Kmiec's compact set, Alexia Rutherford's prosthetic costumes, Jack Hawkins' pre-recorded dialogue-bites, William Kirkham's 1930s-vintage electrical devices and a squad of body-doubles to facilitate the Aguilars' switcheroos without either one ever breaking a sweat or scrambling the vocal boundaries of their characters (a roster encompassing gravel-throated producers, purring vamps, effete directors, smartcracking secretaries, adenoidal interns, schmoozy agents and geriatric technicians).
This doesn't mean that the show proceeds with the lugubriosity of classical tragedy, even at two hours (with intermission). In a playbill note, director/choreographer Matthew Crowle confesses to drawing his inspiration from the early Looney Tunes/Merry Melodies cartoons and thus, learning the importance of the occasional respite from accelerating bouts of high-speed hijinks. His pacing of the Waltons' period-accurate musical interludesespecially the toe-tapping homage to take-out Chinese cuisine "Cold Sesame Noodles"reflects this insight, providing us, with the assistance of Linda Madonia's backstage orchestra, the relaxed ambience necessary to appreciate the dazzling velocity of the climactic resolution.
The autumnal equinox is right around the corner, and with it, the onset of winter's heavyweight dramas. Treat yourself to a last fluffy, frivolous, feel-good romp while the sun still shines.