Actors elevate ‘Funny Money’ silliness

Tom Titus

Perhaps viewing Ray Cooney’s “Funny Money” at the Newport Theater

Arts Center just a week after watching the pros at South Coast

Repertory regale audiences in Alan Ayckbourn’s “Relatively Speaking”

cast the former play in a lower-wattage light, but there certainly

are degrees of English comedy on a farcical level.

Cooney is no Ayckbourn, but his repertoire of gimmicky groaners

(“Move Over, Mrs. Markham,” “Run for Your Wife,” etc.) are,

nevertheless, quite entertaining. And most, this one included,

require a fine degree of timing and dexterity to achieve the desired

effect.

On this score, the Newport production, deftly directed by Terri

Miller Schmidt, has quite a bit going for it. The actors --

particularly the two leading performers -- thrust themselves full

bore into the demands of Cooney’s circuitous plot, elevating its

basic level of inspired silliness.

The basic situation, from which myriad complications arise, is

created when a mild-mannered accountant (Michael Ross) arrives home

in a sort of stupor as his wife (Yvonne Robertson) is preparing a

birthday party for him. The fellow has had his briefcase switched

with another containing 750,000 English pounds, and he’s already

making one-way reservations for Barcelona.

Crashing the party is a police detective (Monte Collins) who’s

been following Ross because he suspects him of soliciting in the

local pub (actually, he’s been repeatedly counting his windfall in

the loo) and eagerly deals himself in, for a price. Party guests

Marsha Collins and David Colley arrive and are swept into the

chicanery, along with an impatient cabbie (Robert Markland) and a

more businesslike cop (Patrick Strong) whose patience wears

increasingly thinner as the outlandish events transpire.

The jowly, excitable Ross makes an ideal central figure, his

countenance reflecting avarice mingled with stark terror as his

newfound fortune is whittled away and its real owner -- who’s already

murdered the unfortunate fellow who took Ross’ bag -- is due to

arrive and claim the cash at any moment.

Robertson, however, is the real larcenous one -- stealing the show

at every opportunity as her teetotaler character is driven,

repeatedly, to drink. There are many ways to play a drunk scene

effectively, and Robertson elects one of the most hilariously

convincing, virtually draping herself around the furniture as she

becomes increasingly pixilated.

Colley projects a picture of total confusion as his character is

drawn into the charade, but not so overwhelmed that he doesn’t see a

chance to make a quick pound or two. The perky, kittenish Marsha

Collins is a particular treat as she hatches plans to share Ross’

fortune, along with his bed, in Spain when his wife declines.

Monte Collins and Strong are a contrasting pair of police

officers. Monte Collins’ character is an amiable fellow who greets

Ross with outstretched palms repeatedly as the stakes mount, while

Strong bristles with steely professionalism until the outlandish

situation eventually pushes him, ballistic, over the edge.

Markland’s ubiquitous cabbie reaps a few chuckles, and the crime

lord with the true claim to the cash is given a garbled, guttural

treatment by Gary Cohen.

“Funny Money” is funnier in its execution than it is on the page,

thanks to an energetic, imaginative company. The play’s first act is

about half an hour too long -- with a few too many complications for

optimum clarity -- but some of the briefcase-switching bits in the

second sustain interest nobly.

“Relatively Speaking” has been extended for four additional

performances in the company’s Julianne Argyros Theater.

The extra stagings will be April 10, 11 and 12 at 7:45 p.m., with

a matinee on the 12th at 2 p.m. at the SCR theater, 655 Town Center

Drive, Costa Mesa. Reservations are being taken at the box office,

(714) 708-5555.

* Tom Titus’ reviews run Thursdays and Saturdays.