STAGE REVIEW : ‘Double Cross’: A Mindless Twister

“Double Cross” was described as “a ‘who do you trust’ mind-twister that will put you on the edge of your seat” in a letter to Pasadena Playhouse subscribers.

While watching “Double Cross,” it soon becomes apparent that the edges of the seats will not be subjected to undue wear and tear.

There is no one to trust in this play, nor is there anyone whom we’d ever consider trusting. There is no one up there who is worth much consideration of any kind.

This is a why-should-we-care mind-twister.

The play begins with a couple in the throes of delicately undressed passion. Besides making whoopee, they’re making murder plans. She is rich, and her hateful husband is the target.

Hubby soon bites the dust, and the only other characters of any consequence are two attorneys, who compete in a slime sweepstakes for the rest of the evening.

To use television analogies--because that’s what this kind of play is up against--there is no Columbo, no Perry Mason, not even a Pamela Ewing. What’s worse, there is no J.R. Ewing: The schemers here are simply not that interesting.

Perhaps we’re supposed to feel sympathy for Ted, the woman’s lover--and her horse trainer. A black man in a white world, he is the butt of several racist comments by the others. The setting for all of this chicanery is rural Virginia, and playwright Gary Bohlke attempts to depict barriers of class as well as race.

But any social commentary here is extremely shallow. Ron Richardson, as Ted, is largely limited to playing the character as a hot-blooded lover and indignant suspect and witness. His line, “I like my coffee white and hot--just like my women” illustrates the lack of subtlety in Bohlke’s script.

Of the conniving attorneys, Jason (Gary Swanson)--who comes from a lower social class--is marginally more noteworthy, but for largely superficial reasons. He likes hunting analogies, and he finally forsakes his suit for a hunting outfit (costumer: Lindsay Davis). He also looks like Ted Turner.

His rival (John Benjamin Hickey) is bland, except for an incredibly loose tongue that should arouse more suspicion than it does. His cynicism about the law makes something of a statement, but several TV series have stated it better.

Alyson Reed’s performance as the shady lady adds authenticity, as does set designer Andrew Jackness’ barn, which is being transformed into an Architectural Digest show place.

But the look of the play isn’t a complete plus. The courtroom scene is shoved to the edge of the stage by the rest of the set, and Martin Aronstein’s lighting design adds only a few hints of the kind of mystery that’s so much easier to suggest in a film noir .

Director A.J. Antoon said in an interview that the play isn’t supposed to be funny. This might be OK if it were thrilling on some other level. But this play blows even some of its most obvious opportunities for laughs and/or thrills: For example, the inevitable shattering of what has been heralded as a valuable Ming vase is staged so that it’s hardly noticed.

The final plot twist is wryly amusing--better late than never. But “Double Cross” will disappoint fans of “Accomplice,” a funnier murder tale staged here in 1989.

The same letter that announced “Double Cross” also explained that the play previously scheduled for this slot, “Ad Wars,” was canceled “due to the world situation today . . . (and) because it deals with a satirical and biting look at our country’s Department of Defense.”

So we don’t get bite--could we at least have some bark?