Great escapism New Stage’s knee-slapping Blithe Spirit BY BILL RODRIGUEZ
	Blithe Spirit By Noel Coward. Directed by Bob Colonna. With Nigel Gore, Kathleen Ambrosini, Liz Larsen-Silva, Mark Carter, Rudy Sanda, Katherine Sheridan, and Eric Behr. Presented by New Stage at Firehouse Theater through June 27.

It was either charming or sad that in the early 20th century, the credulous on both sides of the Atlantic were so into seances. When professional sophisticate and English bon vivant Noel Coward wrote the comedy Blithe Spirit in 1941, it not only distracted its first wartime audiences, it went on to become the fourth-longest running production ever in England.

At Firehouse Theater, producer Cait Calvo’s New Stage is presenting a spirited rendition of the play, which makes fun of the battle of the sexes as well as crystal ball spiritualism.

The year is 1927, and we are in the Kent country drawing room of Charles Condimine (Nigel Gore) and wife Ruth (Kathleen Ambrosini). This was a time when gin flowed like the Thames, even though it was legal over there, so martini glasses are a crucial prop in this comedy and never stay empty for long.

Director Bob Colonna has two flappers (Olivia Burnham and Lisa Rigazio) represent the spirit of the era. As black-garbed as undertakers, they also serve as literal spirits and allow set changes without breaking the mood. Snazzy period costumes by Tina Shea and Joy Thibodeau also hit the mark. Another good enhancement is the presence of playwright Coward in the form of several different portraits hung here and there, the framed photographs increasingly tilted by the flappers as antics progress, as if by whimsical poltergeists.

Ruth is Condimine’s second wife. His first died young seven years before, and while she was beautiful, vivacious, and lovable, he describes her to Ruth as "morally untidy." In other words, we’d love to meet her. The occasion is provided by some research that novelist Condimine is about to do, checking out the tricks of the trade of presumed fraud Madam Arcati (Mark Carter). She is a popular local medium who also dabbles in such activities as writing children’s books — currently she is working on one about a heroic little dung beetle.

Lo and behold, the séance is successful. Elvira (Liz Larsen-Silva) is back, beaming mischievously at the husband she abruptly left. Only Condimine can hear or see her as she flits about gabbing, gowned as white as Casper the Friendly Ghost. Things get about as silly as you’d expect. There’s plenty of dialogue at cross-meanings, as Condimine blurts things to the spectral Elvira that keep provoking Ruth. When Condimine is alone with Elvira, he learns a bit about other-world etiquette — "It’s considered impolite to say ‘dead’ where I come from" — and activities — Elvira was abruptly called away from a backgammon game with "a charming oriental gentleman named Genghis somebody."

As outlandish as a ghost is, Coward provides two characters who rise even farther above the sedate British reserve of the current Condimines and their friends the Bradmans (Eric Behr and Katherine Sheridan), who join them in the séance. As Madam Arcati, Carter has a grand old time being loud and colorful, providing an unearthly voice out of The Exorcist at the drop of a trance. Trickier is the task of Rudy Sanda, as Eduardo the Condimine’s Spanish servant. The butler apparently has been instructed to channel the spirit of Manuel, the overly nervous Barcelona bellhop whom John Cleese used to abuse in Fawlty Towers. Sanda pulls it off adeptly and hilariously. Perhaps also inspired by Speedy Gonzales, he threatens to take literally the pre-show expression "break a leg," as he blurs about the stage.

The two wives are oceans of calm against those two comical tempests. Ambrosini lays down an initial serene temperament and maintains a placid core even when she gets angry later — Ruth eventually believes her husband and gets jealous that her invisible rival might recapture his affections. As Elvira, Larsen-Silva keeps up a good-natured smugness that comes across as playful rather than mean, as it easily could. It’s good fun to watch the two women tug at the man’s last shreds of sanity as they compete for him. However, the usually proficient Gore can’t seem to get an emotional handle on what the character is going through. He overreacts before things get very scary for Condimine and shows no reaction at all upon news by phone of a terrible accident.

Coward wrote this comedy in only six days, a few weeks after his London apartment was blown to rubble in the Blitz. He was in just the mood for creating the sort of knee-slapping escapism that puts real problems in perspective. Theater audiences will never outgrow their need for that sort of opportunity.