Little Theatre cooks up skillfully precise ‘Dinner’

I had thought that perhaps the real story to Las Vegas Little Theatre’s “The Man Who Came to Dinner” would be how its 23 cast members, along with four actors from another show, were managing to share the playhouse’s small dressing rooms. But luckily, there was much more of interest happening on the stage.

Director Mario Mendez’s take on George Kaufman/Moss Hart’s often performed 1930s screwball comedy is skillfully precise and reasonably well performed.

At its center is Rob Kastil, as the egocentric, domineering radio wit and critic Sheridan Whiteside, who wreaks havoc by setting up headquarters in a household in a small, well-to-do Ohio town when he falls on the front step and injures his hip.

How do you describe Kaufman/Hart’s special brand of enjoyable nonsense? Let’s just say the home is invaded by nearly two dozen loonies, most of whom contribute to the situation’s insanity.

Kastil’s an amusingly nasty Whiteside: He sounds like Vincent Price playing Rex Harrison; a renaissance man who expects to be obeyed and is used to controlling the world around him. Kastil also shows us Whiteside’s softer side. It’s amazing how much the actor and director allow us to like this difficult, oversized personality. It’s a showstopping performance.

Penni Mendez, as his long suffering secretary, is Whiteside’s perfect foil. He bellows; she’s soft-spoken. He’s a loose canon; she’s quietly efficient. The pair are perfectly suited vocally, as well as temperamentally.

There are, though, many characters who try too hard to be outrageous. They don’t have a strong enough reality base to be funny.

There’s also a hugely illogical moment in the third act that is the fault of both the playwrights and the director. A big switch takes place that should unhinge the plot, but the director doesn’t even have the characters physically react. It nearly kills the comedy in the third act, because if there’s anything this sort of exaggerated comedy needs, it’s logic.

Ron Lindblom’s living room set is roomy and suggests wealth. Its dominant colors of blood red and light unfinished wood, though, suggests a family of no taste. Did 1930s Ohio bourgeoisie really have such a sour sentimentality for red goth?

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.