It’s easy to see what has gone slightly awry with this production at the Paper Mill Playhouse of Ken Ludwig’s farce A Comedy of Tenors, but it can be fixed. Why it isn’t as consistently hilarious as it was in its world premiere at Princeton’s McCarter Theater almost two years ago can, I suspect, be traced to a general performance level that is, at the present time, way over the top and with direction and staging that too often exceed the boundaries of truly effective farce. Without drawing too many comparisons between the two productions, I was initially encouraged to see that Don Stephenson has reunited members of the cast he directed in Lend Me a Tenor at the Paper Mill Playhouse in 2013 for this eagerly anticipated sequel. They are a splendid ensemble and just need more time to inhabit rather than invade their roles. The good news is that there is time to consider what works and what doesn’t before any move to Broadway is considered. As it is, there is plenty of fun to be had for audiences who are both new to the play and for those who remember and love Lend Me a Tenor. However, you only had to listen to the appreciable difference in audience response to the terrific Act II in contrast to the more tepid reactions to many of the antics that simply seem unnecessarily forced in Act I. As for the play, for those who may need a fast refresher course on characters who have been refreshingly re-observed, here goes: A trio of temperamental tenors (are there any other kind?) one wife, one lover, and a few significant others have been recruited to create havoc, make love to the wrong person, slam the usual number of doors, leap head first off a balcony, hide, dress and undress in corresponding bedrooms, and, in one case, pretend to be who he is not. It's an absurdist situation involving a lookalike hotel porter who amazingly sings, a talking pickled tongue (don't ask), and a nervous producer who can't keep the approaching preparations from spiraling out of control and into complete chaos. As it should, the play with its many stunts and silly shtick galore moves along at breakneck speed. But it is Ludwig's gleeful, almost giddy, text that will keep you laughing, sometimes even hoping for a breather. A Comedy of Tenors takes place in 1936 two years after the events in Tenor and mostly concerns the frustrations that beset the world-class tenor Tito Merelli (John Treacy Egan) as he arrives in Paris, accompanied (once again) by his tempestuous wife Maria (Judy Blazer) to sing at a gala concert. The gimmick is that he is contracted to sing with two other tenors Max (David Josefsberg) and Carlo (newcomer Ryan Silverman) for what has been promoted by their high-anxiety producer Saunders (Michael Kostroff) as "the biggest concert in the history of Paris." All the action takes place in a luxurious suite in a swanky Paris hotel (handsomely designed by Michael Schweikardt) in which a little hanky-panky is already in progress. Unknown to Tito is the affair going on between his beguiling daughter Mimi (Jill Paice) and Carlo, of whom Tito not only disapproves but who he mistakenly believes is having an affair with his wife. Add the singing hotel porter (also played by Egan who, except for his beard, is the spitting image of Tito) and a sexy Russian soprano (Donna English) — who, unbeknownst to Maria, once had had a torrid affair with Tito. I should mention that Max, who was Saunders’s assistant in Lend Me a Tenor and is now his son-in-law, is anxious to get through the concert before his wife (unseen) goes into labor. The shenanigans unfold in close to real time with the concert scheduled to begin in two hours. It remains for Saunders to keep his temper-prone tenors from killing each other before they actually get to sing. If some of the outrageous behavior that is guided by director Stephenson needs reigning in, the ensemble has been otherwise been corralled to work seamlessly as a team and individually as shameless scene-stealers. There are opportunities for designer Mariah Hale’s period-perfect costumes to steal a scene or two. If A Comedy of Tenors too often mistakes frantic for funny, it also joyously carries on the age-old tradition of farce that inspired and sometimes even confounded many playwrights from Plautus to Moliere to George S. Kaufman.
