Stage West's 'Unnecessary Farce': A Play About Trust, Power, and the Art of Falling Apart

Stage West's latest production of Paul Slade Smith's Unnecessary Farce proves that even a thin script can become a vibrant commentary on power, surveillance, and the absurdity of institutional failure, when a talented cast throws caution to the wind.

At first glance, this is a classic door-slamming comedy, complete with motel rooms, hidden cameras, and characters peeling off their clothes. But beneath the slapstick lies a sharper edge, one that resonates with our current moment. The play centers on a sting operation targeting Mayor Meekly, suspected of embezzling millions. It is a setup that invites us to laugh at the chaos of public officials, while quietly nodding at the systemic distrust many citizens feel toward those in power.

Director Jan Alexandra Smith guides the seven actors with a wily hand, making the physical comedy look effortless. Ian Marten's set, showing adjoining motel rooms, is a maze of doors and beds, all of which are used and abused with gleeful abandon. It is a visual metaphor for the way public and private lives collide, often with hilarious and uncomfortable results.

The plot follows Officer Sheridan and rookie Billie Dwyer, who team up with accountant Karen Brown to trap the mayor. Their plan is simple: record a meeting to catch him in the act. But as in any good farce, nothing goes as planned. The trio soon realizes they have been set up, and at least one of them is marked by the infamous Highland Hitman.

Andrew MacDonald-Smith plays Sheridan as a klutz with an inflated ego, getting tangled in telephone cords and lording his experience over his young partner. His libido is in overdrive whenever Brown is near, a running joke that underscores how personal desires often undermine professional duty. Jenny McKillop's Dwyer is a bundle of energy, bouncing off walls and furniture, embodying the earnestness of a newcomer who still believes in the system.

Sarah Irwin's Brown spends much of the play in her slip, a farce tradition that here feels less like objectification and more like a commentary on vulnerability. A particularly funny bit has her trying to signal for help while Sheridan and Dwyer are never watching the monitor, a pointed jab at how those in charge often miss the obvious when distracted by their own agendas.

Patrick Brown's Mayor Meekly lives up to his name, walking in on compromising situations with priceless reactions. His character is a reminder that those in power are often the last to know what is really happening, a theme that feels timely in an era of misinformation and opaque governance.

Mike Tan's Agent Frank starts as a tough lawman but is revealed to be a terrified, mousey man moonlighting as the Hitman's assistant. His conviction that Brown wants to seduce him adds another layer of comic misunderstanding, highlighting how assumptions and biases cloud judgment.

Matthew Mooney's Todd, the Highland Hitman, is genuinely intimidating in full Scottish garb, and his frequent knockouts are a source of great physical comedy. The running joke that his brogue thickens with anger, understood only by Dwyer, is a clever nod to how communication breaks down in moments of crisis.

Elizabeth Stepkowski Tarhan makes a late entrance as the mayor's wife, whose Scottish first husband hints at her true identity. Her physical comedy, rolling over beds while others walk over them, is a highlight that ties the chaos together.

Stage West has remounted Unnecessary Farce after several years. While the production is a success, one cannot help but think of the Ray Cooney sex farces the company performed so well in the past. Those were, and remain, far funnier. Yet this production offers something different: a chance to laugh at the absurdities of institutional power and the human frailties that drive them.

In a time when trust in public institutions is fragile, Unnecessary Farce invites us to laugh at the messiness of it all. It is a reminder that democracy is not a clean process, but a chaotic, human one, full of missteps, misunderstandings, and the occasional moment of genuine connection.

Unnecessary Farce runs at Stage West through October 5. For tickets and showtimes, visit the Stage West website.