Laughter Abounds In Belmont University's Zany and Uproarious THE PLAY THAT GOES WRONG

That laughter you hear coming from within the Troutt Theatre on the Belmont University campus this weekend and next should probably come with a trigger warning. For no matter how rollicking, rambunctious and uproarious it truly is, it should be pointed out that what is transpiring on that stage over two weekends is, indeed, the stuff of post-traumatic stress – or, not to put too fine a point on it, it would be if the shenanigans weren’t brilliantly scripted, infinitely well-rehearsed and just the way it should be.

But if you are a veteran of amateur theatrical pursuits, consider yourself forewarned that attending a performance of The Play That Goes Wrong – the latest production from the rather august-sounding Belmont University Department of Theater and Dance – could trigger all manner of repressed memories about how in the course of all things theatrical, so many things can and will (most likely) go wrong, no matter how well prepared everything appears.

Regardless of how brilliantly written the play by Henry Lewis, Jonathan Sayer and Henry Shields of The Mischief Theatre may be – and it is, I daresay, uproariously so – the suspension of disbelief necessary for any theatrical diversion to succeed may inadvertently lull one into such a deep-seated state of enchantment that they’ll also lose all sense of time and place, thus plunging themselves into the depths of an actor/director/techie’s nightmare from which there is virtually no escape.

Therein, however, is exactly where all the rollicking, rambunctious and aforementioned uproar, folderol and frivolity can be found. The Play That Goes Wrong isn’t so much life-changing as it is life-affirming, particularly if one’s life is engaged in the pursuit of art, magic and make-believe that can only be found in the theater.

Directed by Sean Martin and starring a tremendously capable and talented cast of young actors, The Play That Goes Wrong uses every trick in the theatrical magician’s book to elicit laughter from an audience. In fact, virtually everything that could conceivably trip up more seasoned performers – who’ve been reciting monologues in front of their bathroom mirrors since they were toddlers – or bring down a set considered to be a landmark in stage-worthy design (or in the history of architecture since the Greeks built their first temple and the Romans engineered their first aqueduct), and/or send scores of trembling thespians to the emergency room after one performance – actually befall the cast and crew of the play within the play that makes this play so wonderfully zany and engaging.

For the actors in this comedy, who in turn play the members of the amateur-ish Cornley Drama Society in this production, performing a classic British country house mystery in two-and-one-half-hours (declaiming their hearts out while trying, however valiantly, to remember all the pages of dialogue committed to memory during rehearsals) tests them to the very limit of their natures, both real and imagined. Even if it’s difficult for audience members to always tell where Belmont student actor ends and Cornley thespian begins (and vice versa), rest assured that laughing heartily, guffawing with abandon and responding to all the screwball hijinks with assorted gasps and giggles and chortles of disbelief and exhortations of “look under the chaise” is good for whatever ails you in these troubled times in which our world turns.

More succinctly: You won’t find a better way to spend a night in the theater! The Play That Goes Wrong is quite possibly the most entertaining comedy to come down the theatrical pike since Noises Off and somehow delivers more laughs to the minute than any other show before or since.

Everyone involved with bringing Murder at Haversham Manor to life onstage surely knows how to do so with unmitigated glee – every member of Martin’s company (everyone from the actors onstage, the technicians in the lighting booth, the stagehands backstage, all the folks offstage sewing costumes and building scenery, as well as the ones above the stage focusing the lighting instruments) is having the time of their lives, eagerly anticipating audiences who, in turn, will feel likewise for two all-too-brief weekends of performances.

The travails endured by the cast during the course of The (or is it A?) Murder at Haversham Manor are larger than life and perhaps unbelievable, but anyone who has ever endeavored to put on an amateur theatrical, no matter the budget, knows just how close to the truth it all is. After all, highly charged creative types are more apt to become involved in the type of incidents and accidents that happen onstage (on any stage) in this show.

To be frank, it's easy to forget the actors are, well, acting. All the pratfalls, all the miscues, all the flying props and falling flats are experienced with an ease that feels as if it’s all happening for the very first time and doesn’t follow weeks of rehearsals. While to some respect that’s true, since the audience supplies so much energy that every performance is different from what comes before it or follows thereafter, what may seem like improvisation is the result of Martin and his cast working tirelessly to ensure everything comes off without a hitch or serious injury.

That requires a cast quick on its feet, easy-going enough to take anything in stride and the intelligence to avoid the easy way out just to garner a cheap laugh. Focused and committed, Martin’s ensemble delivers the goods that make the production a joyous success.

Led by Hayden Jones – who plays Chris (the leader of the pack), who in turn plays “Inspector Carter,” who arrives at Haversham Manor to investigate a supposed murder – the cast is committed to giving audiences their money’s worth. Jones, as the unctuous head boy of the Cornley Dramatic Society, is alternately charming and officious as he steers the show to its opening moments and when things start to go off-kilter he manages to convey the sheer terror experienced by every director of every show that’s ever been there, done that.

Martin surrounds Jones with a fine group of actors who never give up a sinking ship, no matter what befalls them. Be advised, gentle readers, that festivities in the audience start precisely 15 minutes prior to curtain (“Thank you, 15!”), so you don’t want to dilly-dally too long over dinner.

Finn McGinnis is wonderfully obtuse and self-centered as “the very serious actor” Robert (who plays the possibly murderous “Thomas Colleymoore”) with a flair for physical comedy. Jack William Johnson is terrific as Max (who plays Cecil Haversham), chewing every piece of scenery and milking the audience for laughter and applause in every conceivable way. Eve Helak leans into the physical with her portrayal of Denise and “Perkins,” although the acoustics of the Troutt Theatre prove to be her nemesis, rendering some of her lines indecipherable.

Victoria Herda, as Sandra, plays the femme fatale role of “Florence Colleymoore” with an over-the-top, melodramatic charm. Ella Batogowski, as Annie the production stage manager, and Kylie Sumner, as Trevor the lighting/sound guy, complete the onstage “offstage” crew who figure prominently in the more insane moments of the onstage hilarity. Finally, Daniel Schurz puts his comedic bona fides on full display as Jonathan, the actor who plays would-be murder victim “Charles Haversham.”

Paul Gattrell provides the inventive scenic design so vital to the production’s success, which is expertly lighted by Amber Whatley’s design. Becca McSweeny provides the props design, with costumes by Jessica Mueller and sound design by Jaxon Mann. Jerry Stratton takes on the herculean job of technical director for this special effects-heavy production.

The Play That Goes Wrong. By Henry Lewis, Jonathan Sayer and Henry Shields. Directed by Sean Martin. Assistant direction by Ayden Sharp. Stage managed by by Logan Molloy and Amy Syverson. Presented by Belmont University Department of Theater and Dance. At the Troutt Theatre, Nashville. Through Sunday, November 5. Running time: 2 hours, 30 minutes (with one 15-minute intermission).

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