Little Theatre’s ‘Blithe Spirit’ a celebration of language

Noel Coward's "Blithe Spirit" just wants to make you laugh. Las Vegas Little Theatre director Brian Scott gives this ghost tale the dry approach it needs. All those British accents and all that upper-crust repartee made me hungry for martinis and cucumber sandwiches.

The plot is serviceable. A novelist, happily married to his second wife, gets involved in the occult. Bad idea. His late first wife magically appears from the beyond and has no intention of leaving. Of course, she's only visible to the novelist, so those around him think he's nuts. What's intriguing is that this delves into the question many widowed people ask themselves: How would I feel toward my second spouse if my first spouse wound up being alive?

But the story is merely an excuse for some great dialogue. This is the kind of production that makes you want to listen, and you don't have to work at it. The insanity multiplies as the evening wears on. (The first act curtain, for example, is a living room destroyed before our eyes.)

The role of the spiritualist Madame Arcati is made for a star, and Barbara King is well-equipped for the challenge. Her every confusing thought registers as she desperately tries to undo damage. King's versatility seems never-ending.

Daryl Scott Thomas gives a beautifully understated performance as the novelist. Were he to have played the part as a buffoon, the production would have no foundation. And Ariana Miner, as the first wife, makes for the kind of Jean Harlow-glamour phantom that might make dying worthwhile.

Ron Lindblom's set suggests the home of a wealthy couple, with stately doorways that lead to courtyards, hallways, and knickknacks that communicate years of fine living. Ginny Adams' lighting design goes a long way in milking the spookiness of the material.

The show loses steam toward the climax because too much is played on the same level. And the two wives seem to run out of dramatic purpose.

But hey, it's fun. Scott treats the script as a celebration of language, and Coward deserves that.

Anthony Del Valle can be reached at vegastheaterchat@aol.com. You can write him c/o Las Vegas Review-Journal, P.O. Box 70, Las Vegas, NV 89125.