Room Service
Taproot Theatre, through March 4, 2017
By Alice Kaderlan
A warning about this review: I am not a fan of farce so my appreciation of Room Service is limited.
Nikki Visel, Erwin Galán, Laura Lee Caudill, Christopher Morson, Eric Hampton and Daniel Stoltenberg in Room Service at Taproot Theatre. Photo by Erik Stuhaug.
The play, about a penniless theater troupe trying to produce its first play, premiered on Broadway in 1937 while the U.S. was still recovering from the Depression, and became an immediate hit. A year later RKO Pictures produced a film version featuring the Marx Brothers but the film wasn’t nearly as successful as the Brothers other movies.
As fans of the Marx Brothers know, farce is a challenging art form. It requires split-second timing, a flair for physical comedy and an ability on the part of the actors to keep a straight face while enacting situations that are highly exaggerated, extravagant and improbable. It’s easy to overdo farce, lapsing into what may feel like an assault on the audience.
That’s a little bit of a problem with Taproot’s Room Service. From the opening moments, it feels like the actors are screaming at us. This is a common problem with farce; the dialogue has to be uttered at a certain pitch in order to communicate the humor but with few exceptions Taproot’s cast overdoes the volume.
As in all farces, Room Service’s plot is ludicrous; it’s impossible to follow all the comings and goings so there’s no point in trying. For those who enjoy farce, the pleasure is in the physical comedy and controlled chaos.
Despite my reservations about the form, there is a lot right with this Room Service, beginning with Christopher Morson’s portrayal of a small town mama’s boy whose first play is scheduled for a Broadway performance. Morson is a terrific physical comedian, frolicking around the compact set like he’s overdosed on uppers; Bill Johns’ various roles don’t require the same physicality but Johns’ embodiment of an immigrant Russian actor, and his Russian accent, are inspired.
Director Karen Lund does a masterful job of managing the high jinks on Taproot’s tiny stage; with all the jumping around it’s a miracle none of the actors winds up on a spectator’s lap. The company’s energy is infectious so if you like farce, you may find some tasty items on this Room Service menu.