Blithe Spirit at Everyman, a balm for Baltimore’s soul (review)

Grandchildren, reluctant spouses, Nöel Coward devotees, pretty much anyone who admires wit and style will bask in the Prosecco-light, bubbly glow of this production, directed with 1920s elan by artistic director Vincent M. Lancisi.

It’s just a dandy, jewel-box presentation of Coward’s 1941 play about eternal love and ethereal acrimony, which he dashed off in a mere six weeks. London audiences, sapped by two back-to-back world wars, were cheered at being transported to a world of dry martinis, drawing rooms, country manors and giddy psychics. Broadway audiences were just as jolly.

Local theatergoers should be too. Daniel Ettinger’s bespoke living room set seems to have leapt from the pages of Town & Country—Morris wallpaper, Art Nouveau and Deco sconces and chandeliers, “important” paintings and Arts and Crafts-style furnishings and textiles. In this posh setting, the Condomines enjoy country living.

Charles Condomine (Bruce Randolph Nelson) is a novelist needing some research on sketchy psychics for his next book. He and wife Ruth (Megan Anderson) throw a dinner party for friends Dr. and Mrs. Brandon (Carl Schurr and Helen Hedman) and a guest of honor—celebrated medium Madame Arcati (Nancy Robinette), a bicycling eccentric with the hearty air of a girls’ school field hockey player.

Blame it on Irving Berlin’s “Always” playing on the Victrola during the séance or wistful thoughts, but Charles’ first wife, the late Elvira (Beth Hylton), pops up, ghostly pale and chic in creamy nude hues and ropes of pearls (David Burdick did the Erte-worthy costumes) and not letting a little thing like death dampen her party. Of course, only Charles can see and hear her, leading to some hilarious misunderstandings between his current—and living—wife Ruth, whose tongue sharpens and eyes narrow and harden with every misconstrued exchange.

Ruth may be the more supportive—or is that controlling?—spouse, but Elvira certainly appears to have been quite the crumpet. Laughter rising from her throat like the bubbles from champagne, Elvira is mischievous and maddening—clapping her hands and bouncing on her heels like a child awaiting cake. Hylton’s Elvira is absolutely delicious—a confectionary contrast to Ruth’s bundle of nerves.

As for Charles, he’s become an “astral bigamist,” guiltily enjoying his dead wife’s company while trying to keep the peace with Ruth. Love triangles are always messy, even more so when two of the trio have yet to shuffle off that mortal coil.

The entire cast succeeds in keeping Blithe Spirit as carefree as a summer frock. Nelson and Anderson are particularly good at the thunderball pace of Coward’s dialogue—they banter like a couple of swells from 1920s Hollywood.

With her Betty Boop eyes and crisp dark bob, Anderson looks like a fashion illustration of a flapper, only with the comedic grace and timing of a silent movie star. Helen Hedman adds elegance and a touch of warmth as the socialite Mrs. Bradman.

Robinette contributes a sterling performance as Madame Arcati, every gesture a pip, capturing the medium’s dotty oddities with delicacy and style so she is not a foolish figure but perhaps an adorably over-enthusiastic one. In the pivotal role of the fleet-footed maid, Julia Brandeberry combines balletic clumsiness with working-class solidity.

As you probably know, Baltimore has been taking a beating lately. While witty banter and classy society folk are nowhere near the answers for the city’s ills, the lovely escapism of this play is in itself, something of a balm to the ravaged soul.

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Blithe Spirit by Nöel Coward .Directed by Vincent M. Lancisi . Produced by Everyman Theatre. Reviewed by Jayne Blanchard.