OR,

Jason Odell Williams as a double agent can't pull the trigger with Christine Demuth

Liz Duffy Adams' imaginative OR, playing at the Rep Stage (to 9/18), is alternative history in the best sense, where figures from the past come to life today in tabloid ways. Think of it as News of the World on assignment in the land of Charles II circa 1660s, simultaneously played out in London's Swinging Sixties. Two decades of carnage (war, disease, catastrophe) find love in the ascendancy, with women calling more of the tune on stage and off. Chief among them are Aphra Behn, the first acknowledged female playwright-poet, and Nell Gwynne, the leading lady of Restoration Theater - the first generation to take over women's roles - and sometimes mistress of the Royal Bedchamber. It seems like a defining moment.

The 2009/2010 production, now getting its area premiere, is a pastiche of theatrical forms from bedroom farce, backstage comedy, and interregnum romp to gender bender, noire classic, costume drama, and low camp, which Ms. Duffy Adams cheerfully telescopes through several centuries of performance styles. (The title ironically refers either to the mutually exclusive nature of identity, which the play subverts, or the use of a subtitle that the era - and beyond - was linked: for instance, Aphra Behn's The Rover Or, The Banish'd Cavaliers.) Unlike Restoration Comedy, which this play sends up, there is not much of a plot and the rapier wit is largely absent. There's nothing particularly novel either about aspects of both genders or any other qualities contained in the same individual, including bisexual desire (The ladies have a few MTV-lite moments in the second scene.) No matter: the odd-ball characters and improvisational action will hold your attention over roughly 90 intermission-free minutes as will the pastel-hued and fanciful set - doors and wardrobe closet especially - of James Fouchard. And costume designer Melanie Clark really opens up her palette for as glorious a cross-dressed concoction of characters as ever strode the boards.

Michael Stebbins' meticulous direction moves the production like an invisible hand, unseen but omnipresent. There are subtle touches nested throughout this otherwise flamboyant production which serve unobtrusively - the attention to movement, pacing, humor, and seamless timing all elevating the script.

The storyline initially involves springing the improvident writer and sometime spy from debtor's prison by a masked suitor for the greater glory of the times and the stage. Aphra is pursued on several fronts where she is 1) an object (and pursuer) of desire, 2) the recipient of bogus intrigue, and 3) a vehicle for advancing theatrical careers, at the front of the house as well and in the back. Part of the play's humor, comes from Aphra's deflecting actions in accommodating all parties, while penning the action as it occurs on the fly. The play gets finished and everyone gets written into the script. As every creative writer knows, sometimes characters take over the story; this time it's no different. The other part of the fun is the similarity between political machinations and the world of theater. Everyone's acting up a storm. Maybe great theater is born out of necessity and vice versa?

A well-cast trio of actors - two of whom, playing multiple parts, Jason Odell Williams and Christine Demuth are quick-change artists extraordinaire - is anchored by Charlotte Cohn as Aphra, the narrative voice and conscience of the play. It is the playwright's conceit that Aphra teases out a tale of love and revenge seemingly in real-time, life imitating art or its inverse as the case ambiguously may be. Ms. Cohn is a study in gray as she navigates her aspirations and talents through the murky world of intrigue, conveying astonishment, bemusement, and subterfuge with a twitch of the facial muscles (nod-nod, wink-wink). Histrionics define her character's core, which she shares generously with the audience.

Her real-life husband, Mr. Williams, gives three exuberant portrayals of vanity: as posturing majesty, a terror-stricken spy, and a manic grand dame. Though none of the actors has a claim to over-the-top performance - the mugging, primping, and scene stealing is equally apportioned - Mr. Williams' especial talent for the extravagant knows no bounds. His outsized Charles is a Divine Right and his trembling, dipso William Scott is positively unhinged. But his turn as motor mouth Lady Davenant - Julia Child incarnate! - is a show stopper alone worth your immediate trip to Columbia, MD. Finally, his counterpart in extreme personae, the sylph-like Ms. Demuth, morphs from a spritely sentinel, surly jailer, and cantankerous maid (with a gait disorder!) to a dashing heroine in breeches. Watching her and Mr. Williams shuttle from one slamming or creaking door to the next, in the guise of their various characters, is one of the many pleasures of the production, along with the surprises that will pop out at you.

The play's physicality is given a unique twist, with every embrace (and there are many), by the sound design of Ann Warren who has compiled a wondrously warped playlist of Sixties tunes that resemble a cross between elevator music and early disco. Terry Cobb's bold lighting is equal to the task that this effervescent staging calls for.

While I'd advise some online searches for the historical figures and the period, before or after you see the play, the thoughtful program guide and the crystal clear production with a universal message or two, will speak across time and place. Some of the truths that the play drives home are quaint, if not debatable, but this is a world in which you'll be happy to spend some time. This entertaining play with first-rate design (on a modest budget) along with excellent acting and direction is highly recommended (4 ¼ hands out of 5).

Photo credits: Stan Barouh