Hedgerow's 'Boeing-Boeing': High-flying, nonstop laughter

Few farces achieve the status of high art, and Marc Camoletti's Boeing-Boeing is not one of them. But the Hedgerow Theatre's actor-driven production shrugs off any high-minded concerns in pursuit of two-hours of nearly non-stop laughter.

In the 1960s, American architect Bernard (Andrew Parcell) lives in Paris, where he juggles relationships with three airline stewardesses. His mild-mannered lothario manages this difficult feat not through charisma but rather by keeping close track of the airline flight schedules and making himself available accordingly. A long-suffering and insufferable French maid Berthe (Trice Baldwin) chips in by changing the menu and décor for each girlfriend (and renders some of the evening's best lines with an impeccable deadpan).

When his former schoolmate Robert (Mark Swift) comes to visit, Bernard eagerly shows off the virtues of his standing harem. That is, until a missed connection, a weather delay, and a changed schedule put all three ladies in Paris for the night, and the hapless Robert must defuse an ever-escalating mash-up of absurd circumstances, mistaken identities, and confused affections.

Damon Bonetti's direction builds on the superb construction of Camoletti's play, having his cast play their roles to the hilt, provoking hilarity at every opportunity. The three flight attendants are all stereotypes and amplify them in all directions. Meredith Beck's Gloria accentuates her entrances with a thick New York accent and the screeches of a deranged cheerleader, turning from kisses to cartwheels on a click of her heel.

Alitalia hostess Gabriella (Hanna Gaffney) wags her fingers and stretches out the vowels of her words to match her anger, and Allison Bloechl's Gretchen towers over the two men, screaming her phrases with the speed and aggression of a Reichsmarschall.

Camoletti wrote his play in 1960, and it now bristles with barely-concealed sexism, laughable at the time, no doubt, here forgivable through Swift's near-inversion of masculinity. As if he were a man made of Play-Doh, his legs buckle inward at the knees, his torso shifts forward, and he collapses to the floor. Each time he flops onto a table or pounces onto a beanbag, the result is the same. Like a clown, he exists to make us laugh; like a great comic actor, he elicits sympathy, and in his character's reversal, a hint of admiration.

The timing of entrances and exits didn't always align, leaving some minor lapses between the brow-wiping "Whew!" of one door slam and the horror of having another simultaneously open.

But the constant barrage of humor obscures any deficit, especially in meaning. As if standing in for the playwright, Berthe says in her first lines, "I'm not here to reform the world" - just to make sure you laugh at it.

Boeing-Boeing. Through Aug. 21 at the Hedgerow Theatre, 64 Rose Valley Rd, Rose Valley, Pa. Tickets: $20-$34. Information: 610-565-4211 or hedgerowtheatre.org