by Amy Tagliaferri - Chatham Edition

“Frankie and Johnny were lovers…” That song is just one of the many twists of fate this couple have in common, says Johnny, a shortorder calls it the “us list.” Waitress Frankie, on the other hand, is a cynic. Life has dealt her an unkind hand of cards, and she’s not expecting anything to go her way now.

Terrence McNally’s play “Frankie and Johnny in the Clair de Lune” chronicles a relationship between the two with a role reversal from the stereotypical boy-meets-girl stories. Here the man wants the love and commitment and the woman wants to slow down.

The play begins with their one-night-stand . Soon the audience discovers that the two work together in a diner and have noticed each other for a bit. After some rather boisterous lovemaking, the two begin to talk. Johnny’s an outspoken soul with seemingly nothing to hide, and Frankie has many hidden layers. Strangely, she wants the lights on, he likes them off. McNally’s wonderful and witty script takes off right there.

“You’re crazy,” Frankie says. “Get out!” Frankie enjoyed the sex but now she wants to settle in to her regular night of a sandwich and television. But Johnny is not going anywhere.

A two person, two-hour show is a true test of acting chops. This one endured the most difficult of obstacles. When the actor originally cast as Johnny had to drop out a week before opening night, director Geordie Broadwater secured Allison Weller’s (Frankie) real-life husband Damian Baldet to take on the role. As the volunteer who introduced the sho w explained, there was a prompter in the front row to deliver any lines when requested. Amazingly, Baldet only asked for a line four times, and even then, the audience barely noticed since it was so clandestinely done. Both Weller and Baldet are remarkable.

The chemistry between the two was palpable. “I talk too much,” said Johnny, and he does. “Half the things I’ve got up here I don’t know where I got them!” And Frankie communicates without words, with a hand subtly pushing back a strand of hair as she is admired, or throwing things across the room when she doesn’t get her way. What fun to watch the relationship develop between these two. And it is fun, because the script is full of humor and poignancy.

This reviewer is always excited to see a Cape Rep set; they are usually intriguing and an intricate part of the show. Ryan Gettigan’s set wit h Mary Fritz’s set dressing, lighting design by Christopher Ostrom and sound design by Peter White doesn’t disappoint. It’s full of details like the Jacqueline Susann paperback on a shelf, or the TV resting on a chair by the pull-out sofa bed that add another layer to the tale of these two lovers and their situation. And kudos to costume designer Robin McLaughlin if she advised Baldet to miss a button on his shirt for that was another detail that worked. Add the efforts of stage manager/light board operator Julie Langevin, Leanne McLaughlin (soundboard operator) and Steve Bearse (light crew) and you have a high caliber production worth seeing.

This year marks the theater-in-the-woods’ 25th year, and with shows like this Cape Rep can plan on celebrating many more to come.