THEATER REVIEW : ‘ARSENIC’ IS STILL LACED WITH MIRTH

SAN DIEGO —  Everybody loves Abby and Martha Brewster. They are pillars of the community. They make soup for invalids and send toys to children. In fact, it is their very kindness that drives them to to their one little excess. When lonely old men come to visit, they like to poison them. After all, the poor gents look so happy when they die.

In the cracked world of “Arsenic and Old Lace,” the Brewster sisters may reign supreme, but they don’t reign alone. The improbable plot of Joseph Kesselring’s 1941 Broadway hit serves as a vantage point from which to take potshots at a variety of characters.

Talentless writers, incompetent policemen and critics for whom theater comes second best to covering real estate are all skewered and broiled on the playwright’s pen. The result is a tasty barbecue presented by Elliot Martin, Act III Productions, James M. Nederlander and Burton Kaiser at the San Diego Civic Theatre through May 31.

Of course, there is one firm rule for enjoying this three-act, 2 1/2-hour revival. One must forget the lean and charming 1943 film with Cary Grant, Peter Lorre and Raymond Massey. The memory of Josephine Hull and Jean Adair as the delightfully dotty Brewster sisters must be at least temporarily put aside.

Here, TV-studded casting substitutes for the movie stars. While this often, at best, results in a bumpy road to success, the choice of Jean Stapleton and Marion Ross as Abby and Martha seems particularly inspired. Stapleton and Ross are hardly the conventional little old lady choices and it is hard to forget that in former lives they were Edith Bunker and Marion Cunningham.

But why would you want to? The Brewster sisters are only a few beats daffier than the characters Stapleton and Ross played in “All in the Family” and “Happy Days.” The contrast between their old sweet innocence and their new sweet savvy makes the darkness of this comedy stand out all the more.

Besides, they look just lovely in Jeanne Button’s beautifully textured period costumes.

The sane eye at the center of this play is Mortimer Brewster, a theater critic. The only thing Mortimer likes about the theater is criticizing it. He has a rather jaundiced point of view on just about everything, including the human race. Yet, even he is nonplussed by the discoveries he makes one evening at his aunts’ house.

Like everyone else, he knew that his brother was a nut case. After all, Teddy does insist he is Teddy Roosevelt and spends a good portion of his time digging the Panama Canal in his aunts’ basement.

What Mortimer didn’t expect to learn is that every other Brewster is crazy, too.

There is Mortimer’s other brother, Jonathan, who has just escaped from a home for the criminally insane. Like the ladies, Jonathan is a killer who takes pride in his work. When his assistant, Dr. Einstein, points out that Jonathan’s aunts have killed as many as he has, Jonathan is determined to up his score by adding Mortimer, the brother he never liked, to his list.

As Mortimer maneuvers to thwart Jonathan’s plans with the dubious help of a policeman who wants to tell him the long-winded plot of his mercifully unpublished play, Mortimer rethinks his upcoming marriage to the girl next door. As a Brewster, might it not be just a matter of time before he goes batty, too?

The plot is only part of the fun. There is the elaborately appointed, portrait-larded house with high rafters and heavy curtains that seems a veritable parody of all the big, spooky houses that ever were. Designed by Marjorie Bradley Kellogg, it is enhanced by Pat Collins’ smoky lighting.

Brian Murray’s direction emphasizes slapstick that is not particularly subtle, but does pull out some solid laughs. Stapleton and Ross do charming little leaps in the air when they’re excited. As Mortimer, one of the best bits by Gary Sandy (“WKRP in Cincinnati”) is catching his aunts in the act of trying to poison one of their victims. The antic energy with which he scares the guy out the door to safety is a spluttering marvel.

Michaeljohn McGann delivers an immensely likeable Teddy who has the inner peace of a man who has truly found himself--even if the self he has found is on loan from someone else.

Now come the bumpy choices. On the side of menacing evil, old favorites Jonathan Frid (“Dark Shadows”) and Larry Storch (“F Troop”) are much too nice as Jonathan and Dr. Einstein, respectively. Despite some fine moments from each of them, the net result was a diminution of the tension in the second and third acts.

Fortunately, this strong old workhorse of a script keeps chugging along even when its riders falter. (Proper credit for the play goes not just to Kesserling, but to his original producers, Howard Lindsay and Russel Crouse, who did a good deal of reworking.) While not a nonstop laugh fest, after 46 years “Arsenic and Old Lace” is still the ticket for those who like their elderberry wine with a little kick.

“ARSENIC AND OLD LACE” By Joseph Kesserling. Director, Brian Murray. Setting, Marjorie Bradley Kellogg. Costumes, Jeanne Button. Lighting, Pat Collins. Stage manager, Elliott Woodruff. With Jean Stapleton, Marion Ross, Gary Sandy, Larry Storch, Jonathan Frid, Mary Layne, John Eames, William Metzo, George Bamford, Kevin McClarnon, Phillip Pruneau, Andrew Gorman, Paul Rosson and Michaeljohn McGann. At 8 p.m. Wednesday-Saturday with Saturday-Sunday matinees at 2. Closes Sunday. At the San Diego Civic Theatre, 202 C St.