Susan Granger’s review of “Don’t Dress For Dinner” (American Airlines Theater: 2011-12 season)
Marc Camoletti’s naughty bedroom farce reunites the characters of Bernard (Adam James) and Robert (Ben Daniels), last seen on Broadway romancing airline stewardesses in Camoletti’s previous comedy “Boeing-Boeing.”
Set in 1960 in a converted farmhouse northwest of Paris, it begins as Bernard’s wife, Jacqueline (Patricia Kalember) is preparing to depart to spend the weekend with her mother. Unbeknownst to her, Bernard has slyly planned a rendezvous with his mistress Suzanne (Jennifer Tilly), a voluptuously vulgar model. But when the telephone rings, Jacqueline discovers to her delight that Bernard’s best friend Robert will be arriving shortly. Since Robert is Jacqueline’s secret lover, she quickly cancels her plans and decides to stay to have a tryst with her paramour, forcing Bernard to make Robert promise to cover for him by introducing Suzanne as his girl-friend. More frantic confusion commences as Suzette (Spencer Kayden), the Cordon Bleu chef whom Bernard has hired to cater an elegant, romantic dinner, arrives – and Robert assumes that she is Suzanne. Eventually, Suzette agrees to pose as Robert’s girlfriend/niece or whatever but she disdainfully demands additional bribery payments from both men for each layer of philandering deception – until her own beefy husband, George (David Aron Damane) shows up in the second act.
Despite John Tillinger’s stylish staging of the mistaken identities and double-entendres and the cast’s obvious effort to try to keep the pace fast, the labored, over-the-top characters and their alleged ardor never really ring true – which makes it so simple for comedienne Spencer Kayden to steal the show – even without whipping up cheese soufflé and baked Alaska.
John Lee Beatty’s chateau set evokes a sense of rustic elegance, giving rise to amusing lines about the converted dairy, hen house, pig sty and hay loft, but it is William Ivey Long’s inventive costume-change, as Suzette swiftly transforms from mousy maid to slinky, strapless vamp, that evokes spontaneous applause.
BOTTOM LINE: If you’ve never seen a French sex farce, you might find this hilarious. But if you’ve seen several before, this Roundabout Theatre Company production is only mediocre.