The sound of rain accompanies Tom Petty’s song “You Got Lucky” at the start of Barefoot. “Good love is hard to find” informs the spirit of this comedy which describes itself as a “daring new sexual escapade.” The door opens to a West Village townhouse and Sylvia (Kate T. Billingsley) enters. Obviously wet and with her mascara smearing, she flicks off her shoes. After all, the sign by the door says this is a Barefoot House. Sylvia make a beeline for the Grey Goose bottle and chugs. She’s seemingly very upset and screams into the couch pillow. A knock at the door follows.
Ms. Billingsley is both the star and co-author of this wildly raucous, 21st century drawing room comedy. She seems to be channeling a spoiled, ill-tempered, boozy, foul-mouthed Katherine Hepburn. There’s more than a whiff of “it’s going to be a bumpy night” Bette Davis feel to this set-up. When Sylvia answers the door, her soon-to-be husband’s mistress Teddy (Elissa Klie) enters. Also wet, she’s apologizing for, essentially, being a slut. Sylvia gives her silk pajamas to wear while drying off which enables Teddy to open her bra announcing “here’s my tits.” The reply? “They’re big.” Eventually Teddy becomes uncomfortable with all the intimate details being discussed. Sylvia’s quip: “We already share a penis. What’s the problem?”
This is the sort of farce that requires a complete suspension of disbelief. After a far too long scene between these two, the fiancé and Teddy’s boyfriend (Will Rosenfelt) arrive. Now the sparks are set to fly. Why all the heightened tensions? The wedding between Sylvia and Robert (Judah Tobias) is only two weeks away and the gifts are already piled high. In a drawing room comedy a century ago perhaps the story would involve flirting or a stolen kiss. Updated for the much franker sexual politics of 2019, Sylvia describes her beau Robert as “a man with homosexual tendencies and tiny calves.”
In the intimate off-off Broadway Gene Frankel Theatre, there are many laughs to be had in this play which has been directed and co-written by Thomas G. Waites. The four principle characters poke at each other and when there is a direct hit, the humor is very funny indeed. Another door knock occurs. The Pizza Man arrives (a very amusing Trent Cox) and this farce nears its peak. If every performance landed on broader caricatures, the result might further amplify the lunacy.
Barefoot came into this intimate theater produced by Black Rose Productions as a late replacement for another play. With another swig or two of vodka, these actors might chew the scenery even louder. This brassy comedy might then be able to turn the corner from chuckle-inducing to hilarious.