John Smitherman's "All Aboard... And Then Some!' (1st review)

Not many playwrights attempt farce, for understandable reasons. To the customary dramatic requirements of plot, character and dialogue, the genre tacks on a slew of conventions: ridiculous situations, stereotyped parts, impossible twists, mistaken identities. And doors. Lots and lots of doors to provide places for characters to hide from one another.

Still, successful farces command a sizeable and eager audience. Shows like The Producers and Boeing, Boeing run for years on Broadway. Hedgerow Theatre's patrons can count on capping each summer with a Ray Cooney play.

The Philadelphia playwright John Smitherman has penned a half-dozen entries in this category. Many have been published and received productions across the country. But Smitherman needed to form his own production company— Laugh Out Loud Productions— to enable Philadelphians to see his work.

Given the amount of hilarity packed into All Aboard… And Then Some!, I don't know why no one's produced him locally. If anything, Smitherman packs so many farcical elements into the play's first 20 minutes that it tips toward tediousness in trying to establish itself.

Vacation from hell

As All Aboard opens, a hapless straight man named John Douglas (played by Smitherman) is plucked out of his daily grind as head of a New York talent agency and ordered by his doctor to take a relaxing cruise so he can recover from the stress of a nasty divorce. Once on board, he can't keep his identity from the struggling actor steward or sex-crazed Vegas chorus girl (Sarah Gliko, showing impressive comic versatility), who pester him with sexual advances and, worse, impromptu auditions.

Of course, the ship has oversold its available rooms, so everyone thinks they're staying in Douglas's cabin, including the ship's reigning crooner (Dan Larrinaga) and a perpetually intoxicated Texas oilman. Rob Neddoff's hilarious performance elevates this latter stereotype above the frat boy image once cultivated by George W. Bush.

(While you might not think that an ocean-view suite would provide many entrances, the staging and writing make smart use of the entrance, bathroom, walk-in closet, porthole, and the space between and under the pull-apart single-beds.)

Throw in a wholesome love interest, mandatory lifeboat drills, a bellhop who speaks just one word of English ("tip"), mistaken sexualities and identities, plus the possibility that a criminal has slipped on board, and, well, you're watching a farce.

15 years on a cruise line

As in many farces, Smitherman milks every opportunity for humor, from the occasionally operational keycard entry (which results in plenty of doors slammed in faces), to the Russian maid wearing an unmatched pair of bowling shoes.

But like the best farces, All Aboard also satirizes its subject matter. After spending the past 15 years as a featured singer on a cruise line, Smitherman knows the targets worth sniping, including the prima donna attitude of his fellow on-deck entertainers.

Throughout, Smitherman displays a very clever style of humor. Neddoff digs into a bowl of gelatinous Thai foot rub— which he thinks is caviar— and exclaims, "Isn't it funny how something can be one thing in one language and something completely different in another?" To his credit, Smitherman avoids easy innuendo and stages his physical humor in the genteel style of Dick Van Dyke tripping over his ottoman.

In addition to writing, starring and designing the set, Smitherman also directed All Aboard, and a few lags mar the opening scene (if Smitherman wanted us to feel his character's exasperation, he succeeded). But once the plot starts to develop, All Aboard teeters for two hours on the edge of comic abandon, like the best of farces.

If Smitherman's other plays are anything like All Aboard, comedy troupes should give this guy a break and stage one of his shows for him.♦


To read another review by Steve Cohen, click here.