Concert Listings
January 7, 2014
Theatre Listings:
January 7, 2014
By way of a speedier airplane, the check comes early in “Boeing Boeing” for a man who has kept his three stewardess fiancées ignorant of one another by charting their flights and adapting his Paris flat based on who is due in town when.
Calm cedes to chaos when the American, German and Italian wives-to-be arrive simultaneously, as Bernard’s precisely calculated system of tracking the airline hostesses (“one up, one down, one pending”) is derailed.
“I’ve got it down to a science, because none of them are ever with me at the same time,” said Damon Stentz, who stars as Bernard. “The problem is I’ve never really worked out a good Plan B, in case they do show up at the same time, and that’s what happens. … My ice-cool exterior just shatters when I have to deal with this problem I never thought would happen.”
In attempt to maintain his, er, multi-faceted lifestyle, Bernard, an architect, aims to obstruct the women’s realization via lies, physical obstacles and harried shuffling from one room to the next. Fortunately, his old pal Robert and his French housekeeper Bertha are in Paris and can aid him amid the unexpected frenzy, the former happy to acquaint himself with the beautiful women and the latter less enthused but appreciative of a regular paycheck.
When Robert first arrives in Paris from small-town Wisconsin, he’s struck by Bernard’s apparent fortune. His desire to join in is quenched, in a sense, when things begin to go awry for Bernard.
“I’m a little jealous, I’m scared, yet I’m eager. I want to get in there, I almost want to try this,” Doug DeGirolamo said of his character. Then, as it were to be, “I have to help him move these women around room to room without them ever meeting and without them ever knowing there’s another fiancee. So I’m doing everything from distracting them by kissing them, falling in love with them, making them angry and pushing them out into another room.”
Even prior to the calamitous surprise, Bertha was a begrudged assistant to Bernard’s scheme, preparing cuisine specific to each woman’s nation and interchanging other evidence in the apartment to fit the narratives they respectively knew to be true.
Leslie Cheramie – last seen in “God of Carnage” – plays Bertha, who is in essence held captive by her paycheck, unable to deny her boss in his requests to help him maintain the scheme. Cheramie said she likes that she can “stick it to (Bernard) verbally” in the play, a production heavy on physical elements.
“I love how fast it is, the coming and the going and the chaos,” Cheramie said. “It’s controlled chaos, but it’s probably one of the more physical plays that I’ve done. I get tossed around, I faint, I sit on the couch and put my feet up a lot. … I interact with every character in the play, and I’m kind of like the glue that holds it together.”
If the plot sounds over the top, that’s because it is, said Eric Pellegrin, directing his first show since “Deathtrap” two years ago. One of the early challenges, he said, was to convince the cast to fully embrace the absurd aspects of the script.
“A lot of times you have to hold back as an actor, but this is one where we have to say, ‘Turn it to 11, and go all the way, because you can’t overdo it,’” Pellegrin said. “When you read the script, it’s kind of like a shell. But you can see where you can go all the way with this moment. They give you a hint of it in the script, but you can see if the actor has fun with it, you can really go ‘I Love Lucy’ with it, all the way.”
Playing Bernard’s American girlfriend is Jessica Vicknair, a kindergarten teacher who makes her stage debut when the play opens Jan. 17. Vicknair is familiar with the playhouse and the actors, and she decided to join them upon reading “Boeing Boeing.”
“I really liked the story,” Vicknair said. “I liked how fun it was. I’m a kindergarten teacher, so I’m animated as it is, every day. I’m not going to say it was easy, but it was a little second-nature to me.”
Memorization has been the primary challenge to learning the craft, Vicknair said, but once the cast started blocking and she could begin identifying lines with her place on the stage, it became easier.
Joining Vicknair are Julia Chauvin as the Italian fiancee Gabriella and Heather Keller, who is the bride-to-be Gretchen, a German. Each character has her own pronounced personality, which adds another layer to the humor.
“The personality that the American has: She knows what she wants, she knows how to get it and she’s not afraid to do it; I’m a woman, you’re a man, I’m superior to you,” Vicknair said.
Marc Camoletti of France penned the farce, first staged at London’s Apollo Theatre in 1962. “Boeing-Boeing” hit Broadway three years later but didn’t catch on in America until it was revived five years ago on Broadway, where it won a Tony Award for Best Revival of a Play.
Thibodaux Playhouse has tabbed it to follow “The 39 Steps,” another fast-paced comedy adapted from across the Atlantic.
Because the show is geared around one man who lives to bed three beautiful women, some of the dialogue and action may not be appropriate for young children, Pellegrin cautioned.
“There is a lot of kissing on stage, we have people sandwiched between each other, that kind of thing, but there’s no profanity,” he said. “It’s an enjoyable, fun, sex comedy that is pretty much all ages, but it’s not really a kid show.”
The playful sensuality makes it a fun role, DeGirolamo said.
“This is probably the most fun I’ve had on stage,” DeGirolamo said. “It is just fantastic. I get to kiss three beautiful women, like multiple times.”
“Boeing Boeing” runs on Jan. 17-18, 24-25 and 26 at the Wetlands Acadian Cultural Center Theater, 314 St. Mary St., Thibodaux. Admission is $15 for adults and $12 for students. For more information, call (985) 446-1896 or visit www.thibodauxplayhouse.com.
Bernard (Damon Stentz) uses Robert (Doug DeGirolamo) to block the door, preventing Gloria, one of Bernard’s three fiancées, from entering the room and discovering that he has pledged to marry two other women. “Boeing Boeing” opens Jan. 17.
