Twisted sisters The Learned Ladies is a frisky farce BY BILL RODRIGUEZ
	The Learned Ladies By Molière, translated by Richard Wilbur. Designed and directed by Ed Shea. With Rachael Morris, Lara Hakeem, Tim White, Carol Schlink, Joe Henderson, John Michael Richardson, Amy Thompson, Joanne Fayan, Will Jamison, Tom Roberts, Ryan Maxwell, Jim Sullivan. At 2nd Story Theatre through February 29.

Between Molière at his most uninhibited farcing around, poet Richard Wilbur at his wittiest translating, and 2nd Story Theatre at their rollicking, gag-nailing best, The Learned Ladies is another production for your don’t-miss list. I can’t remember the last time I walked out of a theater wiping away tears of laughter.

Old Jean Baptiste penned quite a keeper. The comedy isn’t staged as often as his classics, because it contains enough politically incorrect lampooning to give feminist social analysts hissy fits. But intellectual pretensions of the patriarchal persuasion get equal time, so you needn’t cover the ears of the children.

One of the skills on display here is Molière’s talent at subverting comic expectations. Several plot directions point where the story might merrily skip down — and then they take abrupt right angles. For example, the opening scene has one sister trying to talk another out of marriage with her own former suitor. Armande (Lara Hakeem) is appalled at the "shocking imagery" that comes to mind at the thought of marital union, advising Henriette (Rachel Morris) to devote herself to the philosophically "ethereal" instead of the sweatily material. But does she turn right around and try to rekindle the ardor of Clitandre (Tim White) herself, as he suspects she will? Nah. Too obvious a story line for the playwright. That’s why he was paid the big francs.

Of course Armande is jealous and stoops to spoil the match, but not until she fools herself about her lofty motives. Similarly, plotwise, time isn’t wasted getting the support of Henriette’s namby-pamby father, Chrysale (John Michael Richardson), against her dragon lady mother, Philaminte (Joanne Fayan), who opposed the marriage. No, the parents lock horns immediately, so there’s suspense over who will crack first.

The petticoated philosophes of the title are the opinionated sister and mother plus Aunt Belise (Carol Schlink). They are all swoony over a handsome young poet, Trissoton (Will Jamison). He is a potential mate they hope will improve the mind of the light-hearted Henriette, whose innocence Morris wisely avoids making bubble-headed.

Director Ed Shea shapes this production wonderfully at numerous opportunities, but never more hilariously than in a scene with Trissoton when the three women dote and flap about him like a gaggle of geese as he dispenses lame bon mots like bonbons and worse verse. The poet’s language skills are so feeble that until he cues them to the fact that he just tried to say something witty — i.e., someone trips and he lamely quips "It’s fortunate she’s not made of glass!" — his groupies don’t know to laugh. These lubricious ladies are out to "suppress those syllables" that convey any double entendre, understand, so their oblivious lust is uproarious.

All three women have delightful comic opportunities they take good advantage of, but Schlink has the most outrageous. Her character, the dotty aunt, has the habit of convincing herself that uninterested men are in love with her, as they subtly mask their devotion and broken hearts. Schlink gets a wild sight-gag scene with White, as Belise clamps onto the appalled Clitandre like an amorous limpet and his protestations just fuel her delusion. Molière’s set-up is delicious, as the more the man protests, the more she thinks he is trying to spare her feelings.

There’s another no-yuks-barred scene when Trissoton meets his poetical and pretentious match in the form of Vadius, played with oily officiousness by Tom Roberts, who teeters deftly while not going over the top. The acting all around is thumbs-up, per usual at 2nd Story. As the father, when Richardson makes some small, cringing responses, as Chrysale is criticized for being a wuss, he is much funnier, ironically, than when his character is hyper. Prominent support is also ably given by Joe Henderson as Chrysale’s brother and confidante, and by Amy Thompson as a cook fired by Philaminte for bad grammar. (Told that parts of speech must agree, the servant snaps, "Let them agree or squabble — it doesn’t matter!")

Shea is credited with design as well as direction, but art direction and artistic production credits, respectively, go to Matt Castigliego and Peggy Becker. With a period-specific black cap here and a character-establishing leather frock coat there, costume design by Ron M. Cesario ratchets up the production values considerably in the simple, scenery-free black-box set.

2nd Story has a change of schedule for March. Barb McElroy isn’t available for A Streetcar Named Desire, so Shea will be staging Hedda Gabler, with Rae Mancini in the lead. In recent years the theater has developed its reputation with "short attention-span" morsels, and they certainly have whetted our appetites for full-length feasts such as the current offering.