Clue @ Dallas Theater Center
—Martha Heimberg
A dark and stormy night? Was it ever!
The handsome wood-paneled entry of the elegant mansion on the stage before us has a grand chandelier, and a stained-glass transom window above the massive door. Then thunder rolls, lights flicker and fail, and a woman’s scream fills the theater. We’re off and shivering, laughing and applauding at the clever, sumptuously produced and wildly physical 90-minute spectacle of Clue, the Dallas Theater Center’s perfectly delivered gift of time-honored, guffaw-provoking antics. Waiting in the world outside are environmental catastrophes, political tensions, hot wars, and another stirring of Covid—but how terrific to laugh our angst away for an evening.
Part farce and part murder-mystery, Clue (directed by Alan Muraoka with speed and a flair for controlled mayhem) has happily shallow roots. It’s a stage adaptation of the popular Hasbro game (1941) that inspired the cult film (1985). Breeding tells. Sandy Ruskin adapts Jonathan Lynn’s screenplay, packed with farce-proved puns and sudden gasps. Program notes also credit Hunter Foster and Eric Price with original material. Original music by David Michael Holland is heard above the constant door slams and hilariously synchronized marches from the library to the dining hall. Sound designer Sharath Patel and lighting designer Christina Watanabe amplify each moment, whether stormy weather or human chaos.
Set in 1954 Washington D.C. at the height of the McCarthy witch hunt (Commies in every closet!), there’s a whole lotta tremblin’ goin’ on. A collection of characters with secrets to hide have come together at Boddy Manor because they’re all being blackmailed—not blacklisted, as they feared. They soon discover the true source of their invitation, and realize they must kill the blackmailer! Weapons are passed out (rope, candlestick, lead pipe, etc.), all the items we remember from the game tokens. The lights go out, a dead body (Boddy, get it?) lands on the sofa, and now…the guests must find the killer!
The fun of the show is in the eye-rolling noir-style delivery of the dialogue, the distinct schtick of each stylized character, and the sheer synchronized physicality of the whole troupe. As they stalk and tiptoe through set designer Jo Winiaski’s polished, detailed Boddy Manor, elaborately furnished rooms slide by, swing open from the wings, or drop from behind our high-stepping guests. The first time a dining room dropped into place, in super-sync with the music and frozen tableau marchers, the audience broke into gee-whiz applause.
Everybody in the show is dressed in posh fabrics and shiny shoes, right down to the leather-patched elbows on the academic uniform and the form-fitting red velvet “escort” attire. Maid or madame, all are dressed to enhance their true identity—color-coded by name (mustard, scarlet, etc.), and smartly turned out by costume designer Jen Caprio, who also created the classy wigs and sweat-proof makeup.
Some of these guests are straight off the game board, and all the actors give their characters a unique twist. Greg White’s upright Colonel Mustard is a militaristic oaf who never gets the point. When he gets flummoxed in a conversation, he demands “Are you trying to make me look stupid?” Too easy. Sally Nystuen Vahle’s much-widowed Mrs.White delivers her “look that kills” along with a vocal surge of sheer loathing that would stop a train in its tracks. Asked how many husbands she’s had, the widow replies, “Mine, or other women’s?” Vahle, in grand vamp mode, gets a big laugh from this old joke.
Tiffany Solano’s Mrs. Peacock has the fakest smile and shrillest scream in the manor. David Lugo’s full-of-himself Professor Plum quotes Freud and tells everyone, “It’s a pleasure for you to see me.” Olivia de Guzman’s Miss Scarlet proudly struts her tough-girl stuff and knows she has enough dates on her list of customers to counter anybody’s blackmail. The oo-la-la maid Yvette (Christina Austin Lopez), the vicious-looking Cook (Savannah Elayyach) and Mr. Boddy (Blake Henri) all contribute to the creepy-campy fun, but two comic performances stand out.
Is Alex Organ’s prim Mr. Green afraid he’s being blackmailed for his male friendships? “I follow the rules,” he says, but does he? When Mustard demands a “straight answer,” Mr. Green deadpans “Don’t look at me.” One thing’s for certain: Organ’s easy-looking contortionist’s ability to bend his tall body to and fro, and to slither under/over any obstacle, is yet another surprise from an actor who brings fresh energy to all the roles he’s played at DTC. Over and again, the audience gasped and laughed as this apparently uptight guy reached new lows in his limbo moves that any Jamaican dancer would envy.
From the time he opens the manor door to the astonishing display of physical comedy styles in the finale, Blake Hackler’s Wadsworth, the can-do butler, glues this gamey plot together, and is a show unto himself. Delivering firm orders and dialogue with the speed of lightning, he never misses a quip or comic pause as he greets guests, leads the intrepid troupe through their hilariously manic choreography, and calmly disposes of bodies, whether slumped on a sofa or fallen, frozen-stiff, from the fridge.
Saving the best for last, director Muraoka and the gifted Wadsworth/Hackler cut loose in the surprising resolution of the murder-mystery with a rousing display of moves and mannerisms that had everyone exploding in laughter. In the program notes, Muraoka promised we’d see everything from vaudeville to clowning to Commedia dell’arte, a form of comic theatre originating in Italy in the 16th century. And boy, do we ever. “Dying is easy. Comedy is hard,” the director reminds us. But Hackler’s elegantly physical and hilarious last scene might alter our idea about that truism forever.
So, who dunnit? Was it Professor Plum in the dining room with the revolver? Was it Mrs. White in the library with the rope? All and more of the above? Who cares? The real delight in Clue is watching the pitch-perfect work of a cast and crew of all-round pros having all-out fun. Give yourself a laughter cure, and join in the game.
WHEN: Through September 25
WHERE: Dee and Charles Wyly Theatre (Dallas Arts District)
