STAGE REVIEW : Instant Chemistry in ‘Strictly Dishonorable’

Preston Sturges is famous for his madcap movies, many of them drenched in acid satire. But before he went to Hollywood, Sturges wrote for the New York stage. Room for Theatre has revived his 1929 Broadway hit, “Strictly Dishonorable.”

Surprisingly, it isn’t much like a typical Sturges movie. “Strictly Dishonorable” is a romantic comedy, with the emphasis on “romantic.” It’s set on some enchanted evening in 1925, when an Italian opera singer and a Mississippi maiden meet and fall in love.

Director Beverly Sanders found two leads, Kristina Starman and John Apicella, whose chemistry is impeccable--and irresistible. They imbue this meeting of hearts, somewhat unlikely on paper, with undeniable conviction. Here is the perfect play for Valentine’s Day.

This is not to imply that Sturges left his sense of humor on the doorstep. We first meet Isabelle (Starman) in the company of her stuffy fiancee Henry (Peter Trencher). Henry might have been a ripe target for Sturges in one of his movies. He foresees a marriage spent under the wing of his mother in lovely West Orange, N.J.

Isabelle has bigger dreams, if not bigger hopes. She didn’t leave her family’s plantation in order to recede into--and here Starman pronounces the words with delicious, drawling disgust-- West Orange.

But until Isabelle and Henry stumble into a Manhattan speak-easy one night, Isabelle doesn’t know how to break free. There she spots Augustino Caraffa (Apicella). She doesn’t realize that he’s the same man who thrilled her at the Metropolitan Opera; here he looks a little tubbier, a little balder, perhaps. But she finds him charming.

At first Caraffa’s interest is, well, strictly dishonorable. But when they retire to his elegantly appointed chamber (designed by Gary L. Wissman, decorated by Dorothy Christopher) above the speakeasy, it’s Isabelle who captivates Caraffa rather than vice-versa. Before long he’s wiring his mama in the old country, telling her about his new love.

Needless to say, complications ensue. “I’ve been a very wicked man,” moans Caraffa, fretting over the outcome, “but that is no consolation to me now.” There is still Henry to worry about, as well as the more sympathetic scruples of a neighborly judge (Wilfred LaVoie, a master of gruff repartee).

But this is no farce. These lovers are larger, not smaller, than life.

And Apicella and Starman have the charisma to play them.

They receive valuable assistance from costume designer Liz Warner, especially after they adjourn to the bedroom. Watch Apicella try on a hat to match his black silk pajamas. Speaking of pajamas, watch Starman slithering into hers, a shiny gray-checked pair thoughtfully supplied by Caraffa.

The supporting cast appears to be completely at home in an Italian-American speakeasy. Among the signs of this are the snatches of Italian sputtered by Rocco Olivo as the accommodating owner of the joint and by George Samaniego and Marty Schiff as his waiters. And Greg White does a brief turn as an Irish cop who’s open to liquid persuasion.

Performances are at 12745 Ventura Blvd., Thursdays through Saturdays at 8 p.m., Sundays at 4:30 p.m., through Feb. 28. Tickets: $12.50-$15; (818) 509-0459.