The Broadway Theatre Review: The Cottage

By Ross

“Context, darling,” the debonaire gentleman says to the lovely young woman floating around this lovely British period comedy giddy with love and romance. He, with that perfectly crafted grin and handsome face, says so much without giving much away as we watch that towel magically fly away. It’s all cigarette lighting and sex talk in The Cottage, Broadway’s delightfully funny new romp currently causing laughter at the Helen Hayes Theater. And with that stellar cast of comedians giving it their all, it’s a pretty wonderful retreat to the country, and one I was glad to attend. It’s no wonder they all love it there.

The curtain, if studied pre-show, tells you everything you might need to know, and maybe more, that is if you look closely, but as the weekend at The Cottage, gets its screwball comedy in gear, the laughs come quickly and rapidly. Written with a delicious wit by Sandy Rustin, the playwright who has written play adaptations of the films “Clue” and “Mystic Pizza“, the twists and comedic turns within these country walls are both surprisingly silly and sometimes predictably hilarious, all at the same time and within seconds of each other. And that’s high praise, if you ask me.

With some stellar performances by a cast that never lets up, The Cottage lightens the air on Broadway, selling its melodramatic secrets and ridiculously funny one-liners most appealing. Laura Bell Bundy (Broadway’s Legally Blonde; Hairspray), as the delightfully glorious Sylvia kicks it all off as she floats around the space making it her own. (Little does she know.) Trying to find just the right casual pose to intoxicate, she’s enthusiastically embracing her mad affair with her ever so handsome brother-in-law, Beau, played gorgeously by Eric McCormack (Broadway’s The Play What I Wrote; “Will & Grace“), in his family’s pastoral English countryside cottage where they secretly meet up once a year. She’s being a bit rash and bold when she, without Beau’s consent, sends off a few telegrams that start the door a-knocking, with husbands and wives, lovers and others, arriving one after the other in response. “He might be a bit miffed,” Sylvia says, just before Beau’s pregnant wife, Marjorie, played by Lilli Cooper (Broadway’s Tootsie) shows herself in, followed shortly by Sylvia’s husband, Clarke, played deliciously funny by Alex Moffat (AMC+’s “Christmas With the Campbells“). Sylvia has made a bold declaration, but that’s only the first of many made to the surprise of all, as two more come knocking soon after on that same door with their own declarations.

Directed with a swift sharp focus for hilarity and numerous cups of half-drunk tea, Jason Alexander (making his Broadway directorial debut) unpacks the intricate play with expertise, shining forth the hysterical hijinks at a quick delectable pace. The arrival of Dierdre, played by the delightful Dana Steingold (Broadway’s Beetlejuice), followed by Richard, a disguising-ly good Nehal Joshi (Broadway’s Gettin’ The Band Back Together) and a wee bit later, Oscar, gorgeously embodied by Tony Roach (CSC’s The Liar), only accelerates the sharp funny script, raising the ante with one shot after the other.

Inside the beautifully detailed set filled with hidden lighting gems for an untold amount of cigarettes smoked, designed most perfectly by Paul Tate dePoo III (Signature Theatre DC’s Grand Hotel), with exacting spotlight lighting designed by Jiyoun Change (Broadway’s KPOP), picture-perfect (for the most part) period costumes by Sydney Maresca (Broadway’s The Lightning Thief), and a solid sound design by Justin Ellington (Broadway’s Ohio State Murders), the energy never lets up. Surrounded by an assortment of sassy tchotchkes and family portraits looking down on the two brothers, the jokes fly as fast as the drinks get drunk. And the smartest part is that almost every inch is utilized for our pleasure, diving head-first into every crevice for comic effect.

The chemistry is ever so strong and deliciously fun, with McCormack, Moffat, and Bundy flinging themselves hilariously around the room, playing it silly, strong, and sensual all within a heartbeat of the other. It’s ridiculously subversive, playing with stereotypes while destroying them with equal ease. The timing and the pace are unparalleled, turning up the notch with each swordfish attack and porcupine defense strategy played proud and true. They all lead their unshakeable characters forward with confidence, finding honesty in the flatulent frivolity, and humor in their personal dishonesty and vulnerability.

Cooper stands strong, giving it her all in one of the funniest bits that keeps going and going. She doesn’t actually inhabit the period as well as most of the others, but in a play as well constructed as this one, even with its sexy gardener predictability, the swirl of events and reveals of all sorts keeps this piece twirling and spinning at a whirlwind pace. Bundy’s Sylvia keeps the centerpiece status intact, believing at the beginning of a certain kind of love, one that needs refreshing and revising as the plot thickens. But it is her that we watch and wait for, and it is there where we unpack the lesson that she needs to learn about life and love. And she, and we, are all rewarded for it in the end.