High Marx

Playwright-director William Mittler has attempted something very intricate in his comedy “Tickle Pants,” at Stages. If it doesn’t quite come off, it’s inexperience that trips him up, not talent, insight or his sure theatrical sense.

It’s simply that old bugaboo: what to do with the second act, in addition to confusion over whether to be serious at times or maintain a high level of raucous satire.

Mittler has taken two periods out of the real life of Groucho Marx and twisted the characters into the Pants Brothers--Tickle, Antsey, Dancey and No Pants.

The first is when Groucho and his brothers achieved Broadway success, and Groucho’s chorus-girl first wife wanted their elegant new home in the suburbs to sparkle with class, while Groucho wanted homey comfort. The second period, Act 2, is at the end of Groucho’s life, his powers under a cloud and his affairs totally in the hands of the unbalanced adventuress Erin Fleming.

Mittler’s cleverness in the first act is that the action in the Tickle Pants’ mansion is framed completely in the Marx style of that period--madcap, insane and often hilarious. As a playwright, Mittler’s mistake is gradually allowing himself to take himself, and his play, too seriously. This was an error never made by George Kaufman and Morrie Ryskind, who wrote the early Marx hits.

As director, Mittler fares a bit better, except for sluggish tempos overall. He should take another look at the early Marx movies, essentially their Broadway shows on film, in which not a split second is wasted in the breakneck rush from beginning to end. Their philosophy was that if you give the audience time to think, they might wonder why they’re laughing.

The ingredients are all here, though they need some shuffling and, in the second act, a new attitude of madness. Original songs, in the Marx style, are by Mittler and Mitch Faris, and they’re bright and quite as funny as the originals were, their lyrical insignificance convincing everyone of their terribly monumental import. They’re choreographed with a sense of humor by Susana Garcia.

The cast generally is in the spirit of the piece, especially Adam Clark as Tickle Pants. Clark becomes Groucho without doing an impression and, particularly in the second act, is often touching within the parameters of his surface comic madness.

*

Robert Nunez doesn’t try an impression as Antsey Pants, the Chico counterpart, but conveys the style impeccably and has some of the funniest business, particularly strumming a guitar with the savoir-faire of Chico’s piano antics.

Dancey Pants, the Harpo figure, who dances instead of playing the harp, doesn’t have much else to do. In spite of this, Mike Miller manages a number of laughs and has some of Harpo’s woebegone optimism. Patrick Gwaltney gives a brash, un-Marx-like exterior to No Pants that’s on target because model Zeppo was rather un-Marx-like.

*

Tracy Perdue is excellent as Groucho’s first wife, who tries to grab society with a pointless effort that breaks up even her. Jillary Gordon isn’t as telling as the Erin character--she’s much too nice, without a dash of the devious evil that was Fleming’s trademark. Mo Aril, as the daughter of the British noble family come to dine, has a number of very funny moments, as does Amber Jackson as the long-suffering housekeeper.

There’s more than enough promise in this project to indicate a further life, but, to achieve that, it also needs a lot more work.

* “Tickle Pants,” Stages, 1188 N. Fountain Way, Suites E&F;, Anaheim. Friday-Saturday, 8 p.m.; Sunday, 7 p.m. Ends Sunday. $8. (714) 630-3059. Running time: 2 hours, 30 minutes.

Adam Clark: Tickle Pants

Robert Nunez: Antsey Pants

Mike Miller: Dancey Pants

Patrick Gwaltney: No Pants

Tracy Perdue: Mary Pants

Jillary Gordon: Sandy Stardust

A Stages production of William Mittler’s comedy. Produced by Amanda DeMaio. Directed by William Mittler. Choreography: Susana Garcia. Original music: Mitch Faris. Original songs: Faris, Mittler. Scenic design: Tony Faris and Mitch Faris. Lighting design: Kirk Huff. Sound design: Matt Tully.