THEATER : Newport Production of Orton’s ‘Loot’ Fails to Deliver the Goods

Joe Orton’s “Loot,” a deliciously mordant farce revolving around an embalmed corpse and a bank robbery, died on arrival over the weekend at the Newport Theatre Arts Center.

This production needs an autopsy, not a review. Please consider the following a coroner’s report:

* The deceased was well-dressed and appeared to be in reasonable health at first glance, a misapprehension quickly revealed at the onset of the dialogue.

* Despite actors who put on passable imitations of British accents, the lines were almost invariably starved of their caustic wit through a fatal lack of timing. Only the most obvious wisecracks survived.

* On opening night Friday, asphyxiation occurred by the end of the first act. A shorter, faster-paced second act--during which Orton explodes his lethal package--provided a few bracing twitches of momentary life before it, too, expired.

* The ultimate cause of death was an all-too-common form of theatrical strangulation, resulting from a combination of static direction, misread characterizations and awkward casting.

Was there anything right with this production?

Not much. The players remembered their lines and were more than willing. The set was serviceable, the costumes better than that, the lighting sufficient. But a production made less resonant on the stage than the play is on the page is not worth the ticket.

Orton’s biting indictment of a totally corrupt and hypocritical society depends on absurdities taken to extremes. The diabolical inner logic must be underscored by stiletto-sharp execution or it culminates in little more than the mannered trappings of a drawing-room comedy, albeit one with a maniacal cast of characters.

“Loot” is not an easy farce to stage correctly even in England, where the satire ought to be clearest. The 1965 world premiere in Cambridge flopped. Trying to explain that, Orton biographer John Lahr has pointed to the premiere production’s cartoonish sets and campy acting.

The playwright himself believed “Loot” should be played absolutely straight, so as to emphasize the contradictions among what the characters say, what they do and who they are. “ ‘Loot’ is a serious play,” he wrote. “Unless (it) is directed and acted seriously, the play will fail. As it failed in its original touring version. A director who imagines that the only object is to get a laugh is not for me.”

Given the roles in “Loot”--subversive caricatures really--and the utterly unrealistic plot, Orton’s prescription for comic success would test the limits of a professional company, to say nothing of a troupe of amateurs.

Besides the late Mrs. McLeavy--played by a dummy that gets dumped out of its coffin to make room for money stolen in a bank robbery--there is McLeavy (David MacArthur), a Catholic widower in late middle age whose devotion to the church is perhaps exceeded only by his devotion to his rose garden.

Fay (Kathryn Byrd) is the imperious young nurse recently hired to care for McLeavy’s dear departed wife. With her patient departed and her job at an end, Fay doesn’t take long to let McLeavy know where she stands. (“You’ve been a widower for three days. Have you considered a second marriage?”) When it comes to widowhood, Fay knows whereof she speaks. A serial killer, she has seven dead husbands to her credit.

Then there’s McLeavy’s gay son, Hal (Reed Boyer), an unemployed layabout whose chief fault is his inconvenient habit of blurting out the truth. Hal’s homosexuality is scarcely hinted at here, let alone explored, except for a brief (and stereotypical) bit of narcissistic primping. Why the omission, which is crucial to the trademark Orton tone of the play?

The rake in this peculiar menage is Hal’s bisexual lover, Dennis (Tom Orr). Having already bedded Fay, he has proposed marriage to her and is devastated by her refusal--if only because it casts doubt on his sexual prowess. Dennis also happens to be the local undertaker and the mastermind of the bank robbery that he and Hal have committed.

Finally, there is Truscott of Scotland Yard, a very bribable veteran detective with a streak of violence. He resembles an evil-minded Sherlock Holmes in his determination to solve the robbery. Lacking a search warrant, Truscott gains entry to the McLeavy house by posing rather ludicrously as an inspector from the Metropolitan Water Board. He commonly flouts the law, in fact, and whether he catches the real bank robbers or frames an innocent party makes no difference to him.

Of all the players, MacArthur comes closest to portraying his role without damage to the playwright’s intentions. His McLeavy is a bumbling mourner, fastidious in keeping up appearances and conventional to the point of idiocy. The monotonous tone that eventually overtakes MacArthur’s performance, although tedious and annoying, actually enhances it.

Byrd’s depiction of Fay betrays more unfulfilled promise than the other characterizations, because the actress seems capable of growth in the role. She is well-spoken in her effort to be the commanding, rapacious nurse, but she puts too much emphasis on the prim sound of her lines and too little on their meaning.

Orr brings a lot of energy to his performance. As game as he is, though, and despite a certain comic flair for suggesting a small-time hoodlum, the role of Dennis somehow eludes him.

Meanwhile, Boyer doesn’t show much as Hal. And Kevin Knill, who looks entirely too young for Truscott, is simply miscast. He also needs to slow down and stop swallowing his words.

“Loot” continues through Sept. 2 at the Newport Theatre Arts Center, 2501 Cliff Drive, Newport Beach. Performances are Thursdays through Saturdays at 8 p.m., Sundays at 2:30 p.m. Tickets: $10. Information: (714) 631-0288. ‘LOOT’

A Newport Theatre Arts Center production of Joe Orton’s play. Directed by Mitch Nunn. Produced by Sally Moore and Maggie Valdespino. With David MacArthur, Reed Boyer, Kathryn Byrd, Kevin Knill, Tom Orr and William Ripper. Set design by Bill Cole. Costumes by Lia Hansen. Lighting by Paul Beasley.