STAGE REVIEW : The ‘Woman’ in Ayckbourn’s Mind

COSTA MESA — Alan Ayckbourn takes his comedy seriously. Divorce, death and disaster are his stock in trade. In “Absent Friends,” the British playwright deals with a gathering of people who seem a lot worse off than the person who has just left them; in “Absurd Person Singular,” he saunters through the minefield of three consecutive Christmases during which nothing good happens; in “Henceforward,” he gives us an apocalyptic world in which the war zones of the soul are more devastated than the urban trenches in which he sets his play.

Sometimes Ayckbourn is not satisfied merely to be funny/dark but insists on overlaying a geometric pattern as an additional challenge to his audience. “The Norman Conquests” trilogy, for instance, takes place in simultaneous time in two rooms and a garden, while “Taking Steps” takes place on several floors but only one level, so the actors must keep dodging one another.

By these standards, Ayckbourn’s “Woman in Mind,” which opened over the weekend at South Coast Repertory, is extremely simple. It takes place on one set--a country vicar’s garden--in real time. Or almost real time. What action there is takes place largely in the mind of the vicar’s wife, Susan. Or what’s left of it.

Susan (Kandis Chappell) so thoroughly abhors the drabness of her life with pompous husband Gerald, his widowed sister Muriel (who has moved in) and their only son, Rick (who has moved out), that she has conjured up an utterly charming, utterly rich fantasy family. These beautiful people have impeccable manners, impeccable clothes, play tennis all day, drink Dom Perignon and care only, it would seem, for Susan’s well-being.

Fantasy husband Andy (Nicholas Hormann) is pure loving devotion, fantasy brother Tony (Ron Boussom) is a dashing protector of his sister, and fantasy daughter Lucy (Amy Ryan) has just announced she’s about to be married to somebody perfectly wonderful. Of course.

But when the real Susan steps on a garden rake and knocks herself out, fantasy and reality start to collide. Susan, who had invited her imaginary relatives in, finds that she can no longer disinvite them at will.

Leave it to Ayckbourn to find a way to make watching a woman slowly lose her mind a laughing matter. But he does, and on this little patch of ground, as the doctor Bill (Hal Landon Jr.) tries to decide if Susan has a concussion, as Gerald (Mitchell Edmonds) moralizes, Muriel (Marnie Crossen) natters on self-righteously and son Rick (Eric Woodall) returns home with a few bombshells of his own, Susan’s fantasy family comes on with a force and grip even she had not anticipated.

Everything revolves around Susan, and Chappell, a quintessential Ayckbourn actress, makes her a plain Jane loaded with unwanted brains and heart. Life has cruelly miscast her as the wife of this stuffy vicar, who can’t see that she possesses either. Chappell plays the tragedy of that situation in such pragmatic and spontaneous terms that it’s impossible not to laugh at the contrast between the silliness of her real world and the stylishness of her fantasy one.

Under David Emmes’ controlled direction, Hormann, Boussom and Ryan are natty but not superficial sophisticates as the fantasy folks. And when they start crossing the line into Susan’s reality, their menacing new dimension mocks the reality without undermining it by getting out of hand. As Gerald, “not a man of few words when several spring to mind,” Edmonds keeps his pomposity in check. Which strengthens his scenes, but not so his English accent, which tends to go in and out.

Woodall is straightforward and moving as the wayward Rick, whose biggest problems seem to be Mum and Dad. And Crossen gets a shallow crossness out of Muriel, but has more exploring to do to find what really makes her tick. Only Hal Landon Jr. as the befuddled doctor has a straight comic role, which he plays admirably by underplaying it.

Cliff Faulkner has provided the small garden setting, Ann Bruice the appropriate costumes, Michael Roth the sound and at-times-eerie music, and Paulie Jenkins has bathed the lot in alternately drab or magical lighting, depending on which reality we’re in.

Ayckbourn has not made it a secret that he pursues his comedy in dark places, but the ending of “Woman in Mind” remains one of his darkest. As with Neil Simon (to whom he has been compared), his plays are growing both more serious and more captivating. “Woman,” written in 1985 and seen in San Diego last year, may be new to the greater Los Angeles area, but it is not new. It is simply an interesting turn in the road for the playwright--and a terrific challenge for an actress.

As coincidence would have it, another production is set to open Friday at West Hollywood’s Tiffany Theatre, offering the Southland an interesting opportunity to see different directors and casts tackle a fascinating play.

Kandis Chappell: Susan

Hal Landon Jr.: Bill

Nicholas Hormann: Andy

Amy Ryan: Lucy

Ron Boussom: Tony

Mitchell Edmonds: Gerald

Marnie Crossen: Muriel

Eric Woodall: Rick

Director David Emmes. Playwright Alan Ayckbourn. Set Cliff Faulkner. Lights Paulie Jenkins. Costumes Ann Bruice. Sound and music Michael Roth. Production manager Edward Lapine. Stage manager Bonnie Lorenger. Assistant stage manager Scott Harrison.