The Cottage
It’s only fitting that ‘The Cottage’ itself, the titular landscape of a 1920’s summer home, is perfection. The set by Paul Tate dePoo III garnered applause from the first reveal and continued the entire run as a successfully executed seventh character. Every furniture piece and prop (thanks to prop master, Matthew Frew) played a double entendre, with surfaces becoming match strikes and dozens of cleverly hidden cigarettes popping out whenever a character was reaching their wits end. The cigarettes do need their own warning, for the entire audience smelled like a dive bar by the end of act one with the amount of smoking. Maybe consider a mask if you’re sensitive. Also in terms of warnings, there is a gun shot sound effect used in the beginning of the second act that is very surprising.
With the beautiful scene set, the actors who entered the space filled it with refreshing farce. There’s nothing completely brand new about the drama including overlapping affairs, mistaken identities, and 1920s sex stereotypes. Even if they aren’t reinventing the wheel, the cast does find new ways to generate the drama and comedy. Laura Bell Bundy as the star Sylvia, spends the course of the show doing mental gymnastics trying to figure out what she wants out of life, while her life falls apart with the arrival of each unwanted guest. She acts as the emotional anchor to the show which pays off for her happy ending. Everyone in the cast weaved in and out of their dramatic action with precise comedy, while also feeling very loose and fun in their roles. This was especially apparent when Alex Moffat, an absolutely genius physical comedian, caused multiple castmates to break into laughter as he swung around a broken golf club.
For having the essence of British proper poise, this show is a breath of fresh, relaxing air. I’m not usually one to laugh at fart jokes, but once the giggles of this show started, they could not be stopped. I’d go back to see it over and over again, even if that means suffering through the incredibly small, uncomfortable seats of the Helen Hayes Theatre. It’s that good.
