With its verbal precision and clever structural cohesiveness, Noel Coward's "Blithe Spirit" has lost none of its comic voltage since it swept onto a London stage in 1941 and proceeded to outrun the war, chalking up nearly 2,000 performances.
The play's misogynistic streak can stick out a little jarringly from the tale of a remarried man visited by the ghost of his first wife, but that's only if you stop to smell the ectoplasm.
Much more fun to ignore any possible subtext and just get swept along into the delicious swirl of seances and apparitions that shake up an English country house. It's easy to do in Everyman Theatre's stylish revival of "Blithe Spirit" that opened Friday night.
And I do mean stylish. This production places the action in the late 1920s, rather than the usual wartime Britain, and that means exquisite clothes for the actors from the company's resident costume designer David Burdick. Mortals and ghosts alike could not look more elegant. Resident set designer Daniel Ettinger likewise conjures up scenic appeal.
The focal point of Coward's fantasy is Charles Condomine (Bruce Randolph Nelson), an author hoping to gather material for his next book by observing an eccentric, bike-riding local village lady, Madame Arcati (Nancy Robinette), who has a reputation as a medium.
Of course, Charles doesn't believe in such nonsense; inviting Madame Arcati over to conduct a seance is just a lark. The last thing the writer expects is to end up an "astral bigamist" — sharing the house with current wife Ruth (Megan Anderson) and the way-too-blithe spirit of his departed first wife, Elvira (Beth Hylton).
Turns out that Madame Arcati really does have the gift. Who knew it would be so potent? And the spectral complications just keep growing.
To keep all of this percolating onstage, it helps to have a genuine scene-stealer as Madame Arcati, and that's where Everyman is especially fortunate.
I didn't expect to encounter a second notable portrayal of the role so soon after savoring the one by brilliant, ageless Angela Lansbury, whose adorable Madame Arcati lit up Washington's National Theatre in March.
Robinette tackles the assignment with a subtle, winning charm. The actress doesn't go overboard, but doesn't miss much in the way of comic possibilities. The most striking achievement is the naturalness of her verbal and facial nuances, the way she inhabits the character without calling attention to the acting.
Her assured handling of little gestures (note how this medium detects dust on the mantelpiece), and the perfectly judged delivery that can turn such a bland expression as "Honesty is the best policy" into a laugh line, add immeasurably to Robinette's endearing performance.
Nelson sounds occasionally forced, but demonstrates his accustomed flair for physical comedy. He is particularly good at conveying how much more youthful and liberated Charles becomes, at least for a little while, after being reunited with the unearthed Elvira.
Anderson, sporting a Louise Brooks hairdo, brings out Ruth's mix of sensitive and edgy tellingly. Hylton sweeps wonderfully into the action, a vision of silk, pearls and girlish, giggly mischief.
There is solid work from Carl Schurr as Dr. Bradman, lovely nuance from Helen Hedman as his wife. Julia Brandeberry hits the spot as the spry, colorful maid.
The staging includes some cute special effects by Lewis Shaw. Stowe Nelson's cool sound design, featuring harp-led jazzy interludes, ranges beyond the 1920s and also slips in a droll riff on a Brahms symphony.
One quibble. There's a lot of talk in the first scene about savoring dry martinis, but Nelson is awfully liberal with the vermouth each time he mixes up a batch. Watching him create a drink that included only the vaguest vermouthian vestige instead could add an extra splash of humor, and, I suspect, conjure up a more Coward-proof libation in the process.