Twenty years ago, Milwaukee Repertory Theater introduced The Foreigner to the world. The play's background material notes that without the constant urging of the Rep's former artistic director, The Foreigner and its comedic cousin, The Nerd, never would have been written. Larry Shue, an actor, didn't exactly leap for the typewriter, it seems. But audiences should be glad that he did. The current revival of the Milwaukee Rep's most-requested play is a humdinger.
In The Foreigner, Shue reminds us that things aren't always what they seem. The title character, in fact, is not a foreigner at all. Charlie is a shy, self-effacing proofreader who cannot imagine being left at a woodsy lodge for the weekend. He panics at the idea of making conversation with strangers. To fix the problem, his buddy, "Froggy" LeSueur, tells the lodge's owner that his friend is a foreigner who neither understands nor speaks English. Within this fragile framework, the comedy steadily builds and builds. Afraid of being discovered as a phony, Charlie initially wants to "come clean" of the deception. Then he realizes the price of honesty is too high. In the antics that follow, one is sometimes reminded of the Marx Brothers, Lucille Ball or Jackie Gleason. Those comics must certainly have inspired Larry Shue, but they didn't overshadow Shue's own brand of humor.
In the current Milwaukee revival, two of the characters initially command the stage. They are Torrey Hanson as the British-born "Froggy," who's on a short-term military assignment, and Laurie Birmingham as the slightly befuddled lodge owner, Betty. Both actors are in their element. Hanson brilliantly underplays "Froggy" to the point where one of his half-mumbled lines, "I think I'm going to be sick," gets one of the evening's biggest laughs. Birmingham is equally up to the task, making Betty as sweet souled as one could wish for. Her deadpan delivery is hysterical. Lee Ernst, as Charlie, at appears at first to be a mere shadow. Ernst allows Charlie to slowly blossom into the man he always wanted to be. When Ernst lets loose near the play's end, it's worth waiting for.
Mark Corkins delivers one of his finest performances to date as the bigoted redneck, Owen. Corkins is literally a stick of dynamite waiting to be lit. He boldly swaggers across the stage. Owen says insensitive things about Charlie to his face, thinking Charlie cannot understand. Charlie plays along until it's Owen's turn to look foolish. Corkins, never far from the edge, nearly explodes with rage. This sets up a final confrontation between Charlie and Owen. In the meantime, Charlie makes friends with other lodge guests: a Southern debutante (portrayed by Catherine Simms), and her younger brother, Ellard (played by Gerry Neugent). It's fair to say the young Neugent has practically made a career out of playing dimwits such as Ellard. His performance is perfectly pitched between confusion and confidence. This is vitally important, given that Ellard must fill a key role in rescuing the lodge owner and her guests from harm. The audience must wonder about Ellard's ability to follow through on instructions from Charlie.
The only actor who fails to meet expectations is John Hoogenakker as the shifty Rev. David. The character's seeming acts of kindness are merely a front for his right-wing leanings. Hoogenakker fails to make David's good/evil transformation either smooth or believable. In general, the characters glide so easily through the script that the play's three-hour running time seems minimal. The roughhewn log lodge, which comprises the play's only set, is beautifully crafted and appears authentically decorated (complete with Moose head). It is a sturdy reminder of things that stand the test of time.
