Theater Review: 'The Play That Goes Wrong,' Northern Stage 

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• Courtesy Of Mark Washburn
• Andrew Gombas and Izzie Steele in The Play That Goes Wrong

Not everyone loves being onstage, but those who do often love it so much that they make ideal subjects for comedy. Dressing up and pretending to be someone else while a houseful of people watch your every move is tricky enough, but in The Play That Goes Wrong, the performers must sustain theatrical artifice while their play crumbles around them. Every convention of theater is satirized, but one premise never flags: the commitment to the illusion.

The laughter rarely subsides in the Northern Stage production, featuring talented actors playing untrained performers in a local drama group. They're staging a thriller, straining to pretend the mishaps aren't real while the play is.

Written by Henry Lewis, Jonathan Sayer and Henry Shields — three members of Mischief Theatre who originally took on three of the roles — the play premiered in London in 2012 and is still running in the West End.

It's up to the audience to contribute willing suspension of disbelief. We're asked to accept a disintegrating set, misplaced props, ghastly overacting and so many missed cues that it's hard to remember there was some kind of plot to the play. As lines are repeated and unconvincing snow falls, the audience is still prepared to believe a sword fight can continue after the prop foils snap to their handles — provided the actors cover for it like the great fake fencers they are. Commitment is all.

Holding the strands together is a murder mystery, albeit one that draws a suspicious amount of inspiration from Agatha Christie's The Mousetrap. The acting style is overwrought, with each mention of the word "murder" a cue for red light to drench the stage and the actors to freeze in stylized horror. At least that's what's supposed to happen, when the light board operator is paying attention.

The show is constantly teaching the audience what to expect, and saturating the script and characters with clichés is the perfect way to set a play on autopilot. Oddly, you may have some trouble guessing whodunit (it's way too complicated), but you can enjoy switching to whocaresaboutit.

Attention itself is the secret to The Play That Goes Wrong. Half the humor is about surprising the audience — and those moments of amazement dare not be given away. The other half lies in letting the audience see a predicament just before the performers do and select a doomed solution to their problem. We know too little or too much, a great way to feel dizzy.

The light is always dawning on the actors of the Cornley Drama Society, and onstage they face challenges few thespians can meet. If an actor is accidentally knocked unconscious, should the remaining players pretend it hasn't happened and continue their lines while the body on the floor is incapable of speech? If a prop notebook is missing, does a flower vase make a good substitute? If a door is stuck, should the actor trapped behind it step around the flat and enter anyway? And if so, what expression should he wear to best convey a) his character, b) his own courageous struggle with embarrassment and c) his conviction that the audience will accept all this?

The eight actors in this production relish every dilemma. They convey all the gusto of amateurs who love being onstage, combined with undying dedication to keep the play afloat no matter how many holes it springs. Director Peter Hackett hones the script's wonderful gags into bravura feats, and the ensemble works together to execute them with gorgeous precision.

Grayson DeJesus is the drama society's self-appointed double threat as director and lead actor. Though he loves the big moves of "taking stage," his character is among the worst at rescuing derailed scenes, so much so that only the audience can help him out of one jam. Dominic Giovanni is the light and sound technician whose breezy approach to his duties sometimes spoils the murder-y ambience, but he finally takes his job seriously enough to end up inside the play.

Cordell Cole plays an actor who lives for drama, ending his moves with a swirl and raising his character's emotions to an 11. David Mason is the butler created by an actor who's never been stopped from mispronouncing certain words and seems to have taken to heart only the direction to project his voice.

Izzie Steele devises the actress playing a leading lady whose glamorous turn results in startling slapstick. Somehow, her meek character overcomes every adversity thanks to hidden bravado. As the Cornley stage manager, Caitlin Duffy limps in terror onto the stage as an understudy, only to love the limelight so much she'll fight for the right to stay in front of the curtain.

Andrew Gombas is lovably terrible as an amateur who does most of his acting through exaggerated gestures and steadfastly keeps his gaze aimed at an audience that might break into applause at any moment. Jack Russell supplies the physical comedy of a corpse that must move itself from scene to scene oh so invisibly.

Northern Stage's tech and design are first-rate. Scenic designer David L. Arsenault creates a manor with awe-inspiring furnishings, but these architectural elements can't just sit there. They have to break, and break in ways the viewer can't possibly guess until the audience and the actors share the surprise.

The Play That Goes Wrong overflows with silliness. Some of it is volume — the gags are countless. Some of it is execution — the stunts are stunning. And all of it is a salute to theater, where performing live means mortification lurks behind every missed cue, broken doorknob, forgotten line and lost prop. To make everything that goes wrong a beautiful excuse for comedy is to make it all go very right.