STAGE REVIEW : A ‘Sicilian’ Farce With Proper Spice

It takes so many elements for broad farce to succeed. That’s one reason it’s rarely attempted and even more rarely done well. When you add a foreign idiom and sensibility, the chances of success become positively marginal. All of which makes “The Sicilian Bachelor” at the Tiffany Theatre the unlikeliest success story in town.

But a success it is.

Translated and extensively refashioned by Lou Cutell, Norma Helms and Tino Trischitta, from Nino Martoglio’s 1920s “L’Aria Del Continente,” it is one of those indigenous Italian comedies in which character is as integral an element of the comedy as plot, and both are designed strictly to keep you entertained and laughing.

The most visible inheritors of this Southern Italian tradition (to us) were director Vittorio De Sica and Neapolitan playwright Eduardo De Filippo, whose “Marriage Italian Style” and “Divorce Italian Style” became such popular films.

“The Sicilian Bachelor,” set in 1925, is in very much the same vein, with plenty of temperament, flash and fire to fuel its boisterous shaggy-dog tale. Don Cola (Cutell), a hick bachelor landowner from a small Sicilian village, returns home after a sojourn in the Big City (Rome) with delusions of newly acquired sophistication and a statuesque brunette in tow.

The idea that Don Cola is living with a “foreigner” who goes by the unheard-of name of Millian Black (a willowy Tracy Scoggins) senza benefit of nuptials turns his sternly religious sister Marastella (Vera Lockwood) into a veritable panther. As for Don Cola’s lifelong maid, Finuzza (Laura James), who probably reared him from a baby, she simply keeps Don Cola supplied in lemons--that Sicilian cure-all--and her own eyes wide open.

But on the males of the village, including Marastella’s weak-kneed husband Lucinu (Clifton Wells), her son Michilinu (Andy Lauer), Don Cola’s card-playing friends Don Liborio (John La Motta) and Don Filadelfu (Michael Perrotta), la Millian has quite another effect. She merely turns on the charm and quite pivots their little heads.

Even the pompous police Ispettore (Michael Alaimo), who eventually comes up with the goods on the stranger from Rome, is not insensitive to her charms. “Nobody here has to do anything foolish,” he preens. “That is my job.”

The comedy fizzles at the last minute, but you forgive it the lapse because getting there has been so much fun. There’s a tender subplot involving Marastella’s daughter Clementina (a lovely Sandra Secinaro) and the handsome lieutenant (Sean Faro) she’s pining to marry. They are the Romeo and Juliet of the piece, offsetting the randiness of the older generation.

T. J. Castronovo has directed with tremendous spirit, affection and bombast, allowing effusion and confusion to flow unrestricted, yet never forgetting that good comedy requires its crazed inmates to be absolutely convinced of the tragedy that’s befalling them. In that sense, Cutell and Lockwood steal the show, he as the wailing self-deceived bachelor lamenting his fate, she as his fuming sister, lunging around the stage with the grace of a caterwauling Medea. What’s amazing is that we never feel she’s overstating her case.

The balance of the company is shrewdly cast and provides splendid, smoothly coordinated support, from Alaimo’s Ispettore , with his smug, ramrod posture, to Wells’ meek Don Lucinu, Lauer’s smarmy Michilinu, Scoggins’ arrogantly sexy Millian, Secinaro’s innocence as Clementina and Faro’s ardently upright lieutenant. James tends to mug her way through as the much-older Finuzza, but the trespass is small and, again, we forgive.

What ultimately gives this production distinction and zest is the professionalism that has gone into its every aspect, from the eminently workable, genuinely funny adaptation, to the unfailingly true Italian flavor, fervor and idiom.

The accents are not overdone and the occasional use of Italian words and phrases well spoken. (No wonder the Italian Cultural Institute and the Italian Heritage Culture Foundation have given the show their seal of approval.) James L. Moody’s sunny lighting and Sidney Z. Litwack’s airy set, with its open windows, Victorian settee, lace curtains and antimacassars, make you sniff the furniture polish and smell the lemon trees.

Sally Nelson-Harb has costumed everyone appropriately, but refines each circumstance with telling detail, from Don Lucinu’s too-tight Sunday suit, to the fearsome Marastella’s crow-black wardrobe and Alaimo’s splashy but seedy carabiniere uniform.

It’s not often we get Italian period comedies, period. But to get one as smartly assembled as this one, is an occasion for celebration. De Sica would have been pleased.

* “The Sicilian Bachelor,” Tiffany Theatre, 8532 Sunset Blvd., West Hollywood. Thursdays-Sundays, 8 p.m.; Sundays, 2 p.m. Ends Jan. 16. $18.50-$20; (310) 289-2999). Running time: 2 hours, 10 minutes.

‘The Sicilian Bachelor’

Lou Cutell: Don Cola Duscio, the bachelor

Vera Lockwood: Marastella Duscio Faru, the sister

Clifton Wells: Don Lucinu Faru, her husband

Sandra Secinaro: Clementina Faru, their daughter

Andy Lauer: Michilinu Faru, their son

Laura James: Finuzza, the lifelong maid

Michael Alaimo: L’Ispettore, a constable

Tracy Scoggins: Millian Black

John La Motta: Don Liborio, a friend

Michael Perrotta: Don Filadelfu, another friend

Sean Faro: Tenente Gallieno Galletti, an army officer

A new farce comedy presented under the auspices of the Italian Cultural Institute and the Italian Heritage Culture Foundation. Producers Thaddeus Jays, J. Gilbert, Betty Barlia. Director T. J. Castronovo. Playwrights Lou Cutell, Norma Helms, Tino Trischitta, from Nino Martoglio’s play, “L’Aria Del Continente.” Sets Sidney Z. Litwack. Lights James L. Moody. Costumes Sally Nelson-Harb. Production stage manager Joe Morrissey. Assistant stage manager Katherine Forster.