THE DEATH OF ME, written and directed by Bob Bedore; Off Broadway Theatre, 272 S. Main. Continues Mondays and Thursdays-Saturdays at 7:30 p.m. through April 26. All seats reserved. Tickets: $8 for adults, $6 for senior citizens and students and $5 for children 12 and under. Box office: 355-4628. Running time: 1 hour, 45 minutes (one intermission).
What would you think if you overheard someone saying, "We'll smash her on the head and slip her into the lake"?
And your name isn't Titanic.
But your name is Elizabeth Jones . . . and the conversation you've just heard is between your husband, Jamison, and an attractive young lady named Jaque Demont.
The clandestine conversation is out of context, of course. Liz doesn't know that, but the audience does. Then Liz becomes paranoid about what she misconstrues as a plot by her husband and his alleged mistress to do her in.
Basically, Bob Bedore's new comedy, "The Death of Me," is a one-joke sitcom. It reminded me, rather loosely, of a bright, breezy comedy I saw several years ago in San Francisco called "Once Over Nightly" - the kind of sophisticated, romantic comedy that was probably inspired by the overwhelming success of "Pillow Talk."
"The Death of Me" is a throwback to that genre. It's a kind of "Sorry, Wrong Number Meets Rock Hudson and Doris Day." Except instead of a telephone conversation, Liz is hunkering down in a large chair where she cannot be seen by Jamison and Jaque.
Martha, the maid's suggestion, when Liz tells her about the overheard death plot, is to call the police. "They frown on these things."
But when the police brush her off as just another overwrought nut case, Liz turns to the goofy little guy across the hall, pharmacist Dennis Saunders, to be her ally.
As Bedore's first attempt at straight comedy (in contrast to musical parody), this falls little shy of the mark, but it does make for an entertaining evening.
Directed by the playwright (assisted by Ben Porter), the cast is comprised of mostly familiar OBT players, led by Melissa Porter as Liz, Robert Bogue as Jamison, Kristine Jorgensen as Jaque and Cody K. Carlson as Liz's neighborly helper, Dennis.
Rounding out the ensemble are Cami Bogue as Martha, (who'd rather read mystery novels than perform her domestic duties); Zac Zumbrunnen as Officer Brian Creegan, a cop who is dating Martha (I won't give away how they first met), and Kristine B. White as Liz's snooty mother, Emma Lords.
Several of the players are involved in OBT's ongoing "Quick Wits" improvisational comedy nights, and their expertise at rapid-fire humor shows.
There are some very funny segments, too, including Liz and her "scream therapy" explanation and when she and Dennis concoct a scheme to poison Jamison and Jaque before they drown her.
"Who is that strange little man?" Liz's mother asks, when she first sees Dennis.
Liz quickly explains that he's the drug dealer from across the hall - that's drug dealer as in pharmacist. "Why do they call them pharmacists . . . they don't sell pharms," Liz replies.
Frank Ackerman's set - the living room in Liz and Jamison's apartment - is simple and functional. Laura Bedore's costumes, Eric Jensen's sound and Berrett T. Maynard and Jared English's technical work are all fine.
There are some clever plot twists and several funny lines in "The Death of Me," but some of the humor seems forced and contrived. From what I saw on opening night, it could still use some fine-tuning and tightening.
It could be worse, though. It could have been packed with silly, interminable songs and dances.
- Sensitivity rating: Nothing offensive. Emma Lords has a l-o-n-g cigarette holder with a fake cigarette, but there's no actual smoke (although somehow succeeds in dropping imaginary ashes on the furniture and other people's clothes). Mild, comedic violence.
QUICK WITS: OBT's popular "Quick Wits" show is continuing on Friday nights at 1 p.m. for an open-ended run. All seats are $5.