Kitsch mostly clicks in ‘Vep’
Moscone’s last Cal Shakes production leaves ’em laughing
Tendrils of fog crept over the hills during the last moments of “The Mystery of Irma Vep” on opening night Saturday, as if on cue.
Mist-enshrouded moors, hell hounds and madwomen trapped in the walls are all part of the giddy supernatural fun in Charles Ludlam’s beloved 1984 farce. The breakneck romp calls for two actors (in and out of drag) to hurtle through myriad wig and costume changes (count ’em, 35!) and almost as many monsters for a campy two hours.
This is artistic director Jonathan Moscone’s swan song at the California Shakespeare Theater, whose reputation he has burnished to a fine sheen, and he’s certainly going out on a lighthearted note.
Exuberantly directed by Moscone, this vampy “Vep” stars stalwart Bay Area actors Liam Vincent as famed Egyptologist Lord Edgar Hillcrest and Danny Scheie as his oddly hirsute new bride Lady Enid. While this comedy of terrors never quite hits the level of hilarity it reaches for, there are many moments of sublime silliness to savor. Scheie is particularly fetching as the blonde glamour girl floating about her manse, with its French doors, trick bookcases and hidden passages (stunning set by Douglas Schmidt).
From the baying at the moon that begins as soon as the newlyweds set foot in the macabre manse known as Mandacrest Estate, you know you are in for a tourde-farce of supernatural satire. Certainly the glowering maid Jane (Vincent) is convinced that the new lady of the house will never measure up to the flamboyant first wife. Her portrait hangs above the mantle, where it occasionally oozes blood and demonic laughter.
Subtlety has no place in this parade of ridiculous Victorian horror tropes. Among the assorted spooks encountered are the ghost of Lady Irma (the late first wife), werewolves, vampires and the odd mummy.
A wry mashup of highbrow allusions and lowbrow melodrama, “Vep” builds its comic buzz on the purity of the actor’s exercise. The master comedian Scheie and the witty Vincent try to mine every smirk and giggle from this gory Gothic romp. If not all of the slapstick hits home, it’s still a hoot on a midsummer night.
To be sure, devilish word play is one of the delights in this penny dreadful, which cribs from everything from Bronte to Hitchcock.
When Edgar unwittingly unearths a fuschia-haired Egyptian princess (Scheie), she awakes with bursts of ancient babble.
“Giza!” she cries. “Ankh! Ankh!” Then she rubs her sore back, gasping: “Cairo! Practor!”
Oddly enough, however the most hysterical moment here was an ad lib. Vincent, who had been struggling with his coiffure switches while morphing from the sinister maid (a nod to Mrs. Danvers from “Rebecca”) to the Lord of the house, was on his knees.
He prayed “Don’t let anything happen to Lady Enid” and waited a beat before adding, “Don’t let anything happen to my wig!”
The mathematics of farce are tricky indeed and that bold bit of improvisation was funnier than much of what had come before, from the dueling dulcimers to the goofy accents. A little more of that spirit of zaniness and this kitschy comedy would truly be to-die-for.