Measure For Pleasure: That Was No Lady, That Was My Prostitute

After witnessing a two and a half hour production containing innumerable penis jokes, several crude simulations of sex acts, two demeaning uses of the "c" word and a nontraditional pronunciation of the word "succumb", my friend and Broadwayworld.com colleague Jena Tesse Fox turned to me after curtain calls and gleamed, "That was so cute."

I have to agree. Despite all the naughtiness, ribaldry and, let's face it, juvenile smuttiness contained within David Gimm's new comedy, Measure For Pleasure, it is, on the whole, very cute. To toss out the old cliché, it's really a love story at heart, featuring Michael Stuhlbarg and Euan Morton as strong contenders for the title of cutest couple of the theatre season.

Written in snappy verse and styled in the Restoration comedy manner (with a few contemporary dashes here and there), the story is a typical one of love, sex, deception, mistaken identity and long lost family relations. The crude and sleazy Sir Peter Lustforth (Wayne Knight) is sexually frustrated because his wife, Lady Vanity (Suzanne Bertish) wants it all the time, while he'd rather be devoting his energies to the lovely Hermione Goode (Emily Swallow – for a moment I thought that was her character's name). He has a rival for her affections in the dashing, and equally crude and sleazy, rake, Captain Dick Dashwood (Saxon Palmer), but for either of them to partake in what's Goode they must outwit her Puritanical guardian, Dame Stickle (Susan Blommaert). Meanwhile, Lustforth's valet, Will Blunt (Stuhlbarg) has fallen in love with Molly Tawdry (Morton), the transvestite prostitute from whom he regularly purchases oral sex. (Yes, he's aware) Blunt helps get Molly a job as a maid for the Lustforths, but his heart is broken when Molly falls for the handsome Dashwood. Comic complications zip back and forth until everyone winds up in a little den of iniquity, where golden phalluses are in abundance and dignity isn't the only thing that's dropping.

Though buffoonery and innuendo abound, the central story of Will and Molly keeps the evening sweet. Stuhlbarg is exceedingly loveable as the simple and devoted Will, especially funny when the plot requires him to glam up in a pink-powdered wig and foppish attire by costume designer Anita Yavich. Morton is winsome and winning as Molly, who has the street smarts of a survivor. You can really see these two functioning as a couple.

Another sympathetic character is Vanity Lustforth, hilariously played by Bertish in a nearly demented manner. But whether she's applying pounds of makeup to her face or singing atrociously off key, she is never held up to ridicule. Director Peter DuBois never allows the proceedings to cross over into bad taste. Even when the raucous Knight and the slick Palmer are at their most salacious, it's the characters that are vulgar, but never the presentation.

Those up on their dramatic literature will catch references to Oscar Wilde and William Congreve, and those who are not should at least get a couple of jokes about the actual actors on stage, but Grimm's only point here is to remind us to take the time for pleasure. And that should include an evening at the Public's latest offering.

Photos by Michael Daniel: Top: Michael Stuhlbarg and Emily Swallow