CEDAR CITY — The best farces begin with an ordinary room and end with complete pandemonium. In See How They Run, an English vicarage becomes the epicenter of mistaken identities, misplaced trousers, suspicious clergy, and enough slammed doors to keep audiences laughing through nearly every improbable twist. Utah Shakespeare Festival‘s lively production, directed by Geoffrey Kent, embraces the chaos with enthusiasm, finding enough clerical confusion to rival Shakespeare’s own comedies of error.
Jo Winiarski’s scenic design is among the production’s greatest strengths. The comfortably worn English vicarage evokes a home that predates World War II rather than one furnished with contemporary fashions, an aesthetic choice that feels both historically accurate and dramatically appropriate. The richly detailed setting provides an inviting backdrop for the escalating chaos. One practical element, however, occasionally muddles the action. A frequently used downstage-left doorway serves as both the kitchen entrance and the home’s front door, sometimes leaving audiences momentarily uncertain where characters are coming from—or disappearing to—during the production’s whirlwind pace.
The script by Philip King itself is gleefully ridiculous, and that is precisely the point. As soldiers, vicars, bishops, housekeepers, and unexpected visitors continually mistake one another’s identities, the story becomes an elaborate framework supporting larger-than-life performances. Kent’s production occasionally edges toward camp, embracing the exaggerated personalities and broad comic situations that define the genre. Physical comedy is a primary source of laughter, with expertly choreographed entrances, exits, near misses, and frantic pursuits driving much of the evening’s entertainment.
Emily Hawkins throws herself into Penelope Toop with exuberant, almost reckless energy. Her Penelope is delightfully impulsive, forever chasing excitement regardless of the consequences. Mat Hostetler provides an effective foil as the mild-mannered Reverend Lionel Toop, whose restraint and pastoral propriety stand in constant contrast to his wife’s uninhibited spirit. Their dynamic raises questions the play never quite addresses. One wonders what first drew these opposites together, and when Rev. Toop essentially asks Penelope to stop behaving like herself, the relationship briefly exposes a paternalistic undercurrent that has not aged gracefully. Penelope’s cheerful promise to reform lasts only moments before she eagerly begins planning another adventure with an old acting friend, and the play wisely returns its attention to comedy rather than attempting to resolve the marital imbalance.
Clara Hevia gives Ida abundant personality, creating a maid who seems, at first glance, to be delightfully nosy and slightly chaotic. Yet beneath the comic bluster lies the play’s quiet strategist. As the confusion deepens and everyone else is consumed by mistaken identities and mounting panic, Ida repeatedly demonstrates a practical intelligence lacking in many of her social “betters.” She remains one step ahead, earning some of the evening’s biggest laughs and the audience’s affection. Gabriel W. Elmore‘s Clive brings a welcome nuance to the chaos, beginning as a relatively grounded presence before his exasperation grows exponentially as the tangled situation spirals further out of control.
Equally memorable is Caitlin Wise‘s Miss Skillon, whose relentless self-righteousness makes her wonderfully easy to dislike. Oblivious to the irony of her own rigid morality, Miss Skillon seems destined for humiliation from the moment she appears, and Wise delivers that inevitable downfall with impeccable comic satisfaction.
Not every comic opportunity lands. During portions of the first act, the ensemble’s timing occasionally feels a fraction out of sync, allowing a few jokes to pass without achieving their full potential. Farce depends on split-second precision, and even brief hesitations can soften the impact of otherwise clever staging. More problematic is the rapid-fire delivery of dialogue. While the pace certainly contributes to the mounting frenzy, it frequently comes at the expense of intelligibility. Lines are often spoken so quickly that words become indistinct and jokes are occasionally lost.
Fortunately, See How They Run arrives at a thoroughly satisfying conclusion, untangling its web of mistaken identities with enough clarity to reward the audience’s patience. Like Shakespeare’s The Comedy of Errors, the play delights in confusing both its characters and, occasionally, its audience. That connection feels especially appropriate at Utah Shakespeare Festival, where even productions outside the Shakespearean canon continue to celebrate the enduring theatrical pleasures of mistaken identity, comic excess, and the joyful art of making audiences laugh.
MORE INFO: SEE HOW THEY RUN plays until September 4th at the Randall L. Jones Theatre, (195 W Center St
Cedar City, UT 84720). Tickets range from $35-$90. For more information or to purchase tickets, please visit their website here or call 800-PLAYTIX (752-9849).
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