I would like to tell you a story to elucidate a point:
It was a clear, cool morning and I was humming a few bars of my new favorite lindy-hop number, “That Beef ain’t Bad”, when the Alien unexpectedly burst into my water closet, upending my loofa-filled laziness with a frightening crash. Before I could properly adorn myself, in a manner that best befits a man of my mythical means, this forthright and over-presumptuous Alien blurted out:
“What’s the deal with this Noel Coward guy, Buttface!?”
First, I naturally chided this Alien for his reproachable lack of decorum and explained the bloated, blunder of his behavior. Crestfallen, the Alien shimmey-slimed out of the room, antennae pitched at the angle of a Cricketer who’s just discovered his Baili had been wicked.
Upon proper attirement, I found my sudden Alien visitor blorn deep in my imported venison pate. And, let me assure you, the slurping noises were uncouth enough to anger the very cockles of my own very tenuous internal balance with my personal breakfasting choices. It was only by my most empathetic efforts of edible appropriateness that saved not only my face, but the entire room from a gastric upheaval more typically seen in the corner pub rather than the corner suite of the Montpelier Waldorf-Aster Palace suites.
As my bile became properly balanced once more, I turned to my blotched, fedora wearing Alien roommate and tried to rise above the baseness of his pate-covered Snorf. I guessed at a seemly locale for his visual organs and I said, without reservation:
“ Explain Coward? That would be like explaining the benefits of a fine shave to a steward. The words would no more reach your ears than they should be rejected”
That was when the Alien’s pate Bedecked Snorf devoured me.
It seems I would not be making my Aunt’s 80th birthday festivities after all.
So, in that way the morning was not a total loss.
To me this is the brilliance of Coward. THERE IS AN ALIEN IN THE ROOM. Why are we not focused on the fact that AN ALIEN is lurching about a high-end Vermontian Hotel!? Why is this Alien ONLY CONCERNED ABOUT NOEL COWARD!?
These seemingly obvious questions remain unanswered. For the true fun is not in the answers but in the length’s a Cowardian character takes to keep away from the answers
Blithe Spirit is a comedy of intelligent obliviousness. And there is nothing more fun than that, is there?
Box Office Hours:
M/W/F 11:00am - 5:00pm and 1 hour prior to performances
Our Mailing Address/Main Performance Venue
350 E. Main St., Hillsboro, OR 97123