Theater review: Cash on Delivery

by Esther Coughey of of John Garcia's The Column

And they're off and running. On opening night of Cash on Delivery (now playing at Theatre Arlington), from the moment the curtain rises, this production is a horse race with playwright Michael Cooney's (son of legendary Farce-Master Ray Cooney) dialogue galloping from the actor's tongues. Cooney is clearly a chip off the old block, as he utilizes tips from dear old Dad, and then furthers them to extract every ounce of turmoil from the yarn. It's everything one expects from a British farce: Lies, lies, and more lies, banging doors, people getting knocked out, mistaken identities, dead bodies (doesn't anyone check vital signs in a farce?), insidiously funny characters, and an inventive and wily lead actor who plays maestro to the mayhem.

The premise for Cash On Delivery is simple: Eric Swan – played with "tour-de-farce" comic timing by Travis Cook – lost his job two years ago and has since been making ends meet by cheating the Social Security system and claiming benefits for a host of fictitious tenants. Things are getting out of hand and Swan wants out. The situation begins to unravel when Mr. Jenkins (Burl Proctor) shows up in need of the signature of both Eric Swan and his non-existent tenant, Rupert Thompson. Clearly, Eric can't play both people, so someone new is brought in, his real tenant, Norman McDonald (Carter Frost). Norman wants no part in the shenanigans, but like all Farces the unwilling participants are so much better than the willing ones, and as the all-encompassing expression goes – "Chaos Ensues!"

Director BJ Cleveland has put together a stellar cast, and what a revelation to partner Travis Cook and Carter Frost together. But it is Carter Frost, as Norman McDonald, who deftly eliminates any misconceptions about Norman being a supporting character. Thrust into an impossible scenario and forced to make sense of it all, Frost is hysterical, taking the role seriously, and not as an excuse to ham it up.

Joining the fun is Kitt Hussey, who puts in a terrifically energetic performance as Uncle George, while Burl Proctor portrays Mr. Jenkins with the perfect blend of decorum amidst the melee. Michael Craig Rains, as the confused Dr. Chapman, is a treat, and Deborah Dennard, as the humorless old boss, is divine. Not to be outdone is James Christjohn as the ghoulish mortician, Heather Sherman as Norman's frantic fiancée, and Staci Cook as Linda Swan. It's not easy playing the straight role when everyone else gets to be so incredibly funny, however; Staci Cook tackles it with grace. I would be remiss if I didn't mention Rebecca Brown's standout performance as Sally Chessington. Brown delivers the most wonderful double-entendre lines with such innocence, it leaves one feeling guilty for assuming she meant anything other than she was going to "lay Norman" in the bedroom.

Jack Hardaway's set design is exemplary, and the choice of blue wall coloring infuses as much life into the show as do the actors. The only fault I found -- barely worth mentioning -- was the cringe-inducing volume of the telephone ring which forced patrons around me to adjust their hearing aids – but this is an easy fix.

Any show –- or in this case Kentucky Derby -- that has ABBA's "Money, Money, Money" playing for pre-show music, and describes a "heartless tart" as a delectable pudding, is a sure bet in my book. Put your money on this new Sea Biscuit -- Cash on Delivery.

May the farce be with you …