“The Foreigner” reminds you that racism is still alive
“The Foreigner,” a fun and funny farce from the 1980s, just happens to have renewed relevance at the moment.
The serious undercurrent that anchors playwright Larry Shue’s enduring hit is a reminder that, in some quarters, not much has changed in the racist heart of America.
★★★¼
While abundant silliness has the house laughing through most of the action, the point beams through: The way you view The Other has a lot to do with how you see yourself.
The play is beautifully cast in the lively production at the Arvada Center’s Black Box theater. Director Geoffrey Kent keeps the tight two acts running energetically as the characters, who at first risk falling into stereotype, are given depth. The audience is encouraged to draw parallels to current retrograde movements.
Scenic designer Brian Mallgrave has created a convincing, multi-tiered rural Georgia fishing lodge. Picture down-home, earthy if somewhat tacky Americana. Two Brits arrive and survey the foreign territory.
Sammie Joe Kinnett portrays Charlie Baker, a meek British proofreader who is painfully shy. He is afraid of having to engage with the strangers at the resort. He’s also depressed
because his far-away wife is not only in the hospital but also for years has been happily adulterous.
Charlie’s friend, English explosives expert Staff Sergeant “Froggy” LeSueur (played by Josh Robinson), devises a plan: Charlie will pretend not to understand English and, therefore, not have to talk to anyone at the lodge. It’s only for a few days, he assures him. Charlie must act as if the local customs are foreign to him as well.
The plan allows Charlie to overhear various secrets and schemes and to use his wits to transform from frightened to heroic in the course of the play.
The show is a particular triumph for Kinnett who, through a mix of lithe physical antics, deft dialect work and spot on timing, brings the title character to life. He delights with wacky balletic dance steps and nutty gibberish.
Edith Weiss is a comic gem as Betty Meeks, the sincerely caring widow and proprietor of the lodge. Weiss gives manic energy and a thick twang to the role.
Jessica Roblee is fetching as Catherine Simms, an heiress staying at the resort with her fiancee, the Rev. David Marshall Lee (Zachary Andrews), and her dimwitted brother Ellard Simms (a rubbery Lance Rasmussen).
Poor Ellard, who stands to inherit half the family fortune if he is deemed mentally capable, is ignored by everyone until Charlie arrives and begins to appreciate him.
A rough character from town, Owen Musser (a suitably sinister Greg Ungar), injects his xenophobic feelings into the mix.
Kinnett’s pantomime scene with Rasmussen, in which Charlie pretends to follow Ellard’s example in eating breakfast, is a treat, smartly directed to afford views from all angles. Their playful mirror imaging recalls Groucho and Harpo, or Harpo and Lucy, executed with precision.
The play veers into vaudeville shtick (an exchange about “how do you like your eggs?” goes on for awhile) but nobody said this was a subtle comedy.
It endures not because it’s a model of dry wit but because, through the goofiness of it all, there are genuine laughs and a true reflection of the ongoing battle between closedmindedness and openheartedness.