Despite its contemporary setting, the infrequently funny comedy “Fault,” receiving its world premiere at Chicago Shakespeare under the direction of Jason Alexander, feels like a play from a different era.
In its opening moments, when Jerry (Enrico Colantoni) enters his luxe Manhattan home to discover his wife, Lucy (Rebecca Spence), having sex with the younger Shaun (Nick Marini), “Fault” conjures the momentary spirit of a British sex farce. But that anarchic physical energy dissipates pretty much as soon as Sean runs into a door frame.
From then on, the play resembles nothing so much as an effort to revive the old-fashioned drawing room comedy. The widely popular, albeit wide-ranging genre, reaching its zenith in the first half of the 20th century, featured characters of great sophistication and wealth engaging in fast-paced, endlessly witty banter, preferably over cocktails.
Although there were prominent American purveyors — we saw a recent, worthier effort at breathing new life into the form with Richard Greenberg’s rewrite of Philip Barry’s “Holiday” at the Goodman — the drawing room comedy was primarily a British concoction, with Noel Coward as its most famous master.
Not for nothing does writer Scooter Pietsch make Jerry an avowed Anglophile, and the opulent set here from Paul Tate dePoo III (who also designed “The Great Gatsby” tour production, currently in town until May 3) could come from a Coward play — it’s plastered with seemingly centuries-old British landscapes. Some early dialogue even sparked memories of the first two scenes of Coward’s “Private Lives,” where a divorced couple, each now newly remarried and honeymooning at the same hotel, encourage their second spouse’s understanding that the marital failure was all the other’s fault.
The setup here is even more wholly manufactured then basically ignored. Jerry, a big-time merger and acquisitions broker who has closed the deal of his life before he walks in, decides that he and Lucy — “a cutthroat lawyer” — will compete to determine who is most at fault for the current state of their marriage. Shaun — baffled, bloody-nosed and handcuffed to a chair — will be the judge. The task is so unpleasant that, in addition to the handcuffs, Jerry has to offer him scads of money to stay.
OK, it’s a thin concoction, but “Fault” would be far better if Pietsch committed and executed. He doesn’t. Neither character makes any compelling case that the other is guilty of much beyond an affair and one difference of opinion on a business deal a decade ago, and instead, we get all defense and no prosecution. This should be a game of one-upmanship. There’s no up.
“Fault” has mild amusements and noble performances, but it’s stuck in a low comic gear that shifts tones without ever finding an authentic one. The physical comedy early settles into verbal jabs, then a couple of sentimental monologues (Pietsch’s most effective writing actually, revealing the poor rich people’s insecurities about aging), then an effort at pure black comedy that feels at odds with what came before.
The production under Alexander’s direction has a good forward-moving thrust, keeping up the pace, but pace can’t make up for bland repartee that relies on timing rather than cleverness.
Fortunately, good timing is this production’s biggest plus.
Colantoni, best known for his TV and film work, possesses an intuitive sense of timing and a seemingly effortless way of showing two contradictory emotions at once on his face, doing battle with each other. His performance in the “Star Trek” homage “Galaxy Quest” — as the benevolent but confused alien leader — was the heart of the 1999 movie that created all the stakes to make the comedy work, and that’s saying a lot for a cast that included Alan Rickman and Sigourney Weaver.
He’s entertaining to watch in “Fault,” but he’s also miscast, never believable as a wannabe patrician, and the role is too one-note to allow him the opportunity to do what he does best.
Spence, who replaced Teri Hatcher at the start of rehearsals (she left for “personal reasons”), comes closer to right for the role. She’s also a performer who has notably shined among a star cast (as one of the title characters in “Mary Page Marlowe” opposite Blair Brown and Carrie Coon), and she brings a grounded honesty, particularly in a climactic monologue.
I’m not as familiar with Marini’s work (Netflix’s “Cobra Kai”), but he makes the most of a badly underwritten role. If there’s one thing Pietsch could do to improve this play quickly, it would be to make Shaun a livelier foil from the start. We aren’t in the era anymore of the drawing room comedies that poked gentle and admiring fun at the upper classes. Perhaps fleshing out the outsider here might provide a different path into more authentically acerbic humor.