Watching the sluggish revival of “Happy Birthday,” you start fantasizing about what 10 drag queens could do to the play. They probably would be a better match for Anita Loos’ comedy than the TACT company and its overly earnest approach.
In 1946, Loos — the author of “Gentlemen Prefer Blondes” — set out to write a splashy vehicle for her good friend Helen Hayes, at the time a huge Broadway star. And she didn’t hold back.
The one-act show basically consists of an increasingly unhinged bender in a Newark lounge. It requires a director who can orchestrate controlled chaos and a leading lady ready to go all out. Unfortunately, this show has neither.
Mary Bacon (“Giant,” “Harrison, TX”) is a fine character actress, but her low-key style isn’t suited to the extroverted physical comedy “Happy Birthday” needs.
Here, she plays it too close to the vest as teetotaling librarian Addie Bemis, who drops by the Jersey Mecca — run by Tony winner Karen Ziemba (“Contact”) — to see her crush, Paul Bishop (Todd Gearhart). He’s there with his date, Maude Carson (Victoria Mack), the kind of sexy dish they used to call a hot tomato.
“I never drink,” Addie primly declares. Famous last words.
After a few too many Pink Ladies and scotch chasers, she throws herself into a tipsy tango, takes over the mike to warble a song, balances up on bar stools, and even hallucinates that the bottles are talking back to her.
This is juicy stuff, but director Scott Alan Evans doesn’t know what to do with it. The general atmosphere is hush-hush rather than boisterous — note: We’re meant to be in a bar, not a funeral home — and the cast’s too mellow by a notch or 10. You just can’t do a play like this in a deliberate, psychologically realistic manner: It needs precision, speed and the willingness to ham it up.
A few beacons shine in the gloom. As old biddies providing a running commentary from their side table, Darrie Lawrence and Nora Chester relish the pungent dialogue. “Have a few drops of my perfume, Addie,” one of them offers. “It’s called Vouley-Voo. That’s French, dear, for ‘Help yourself to the bacon.’ ”
Mack and downtown fave Hanna Cheek (“Sovereign”) have the kind of tight energy the show needs badly, and unlike some of their colleagues, they totally connect with Loos’ sassy quips.
If this show confirms anything, it’s that comedy is tough — and drunken comedy is toughest of all.