When your mother’s died leaving poor you surprised that you’re ninth in line to become rich, what do you do? What Monty Navarro does is set out to get rid of all other heirs from the family who snubbed his mom for marrying beneath them. He concocts A Gentleman’s Guide to Love & Murder, enhanced by music, while also romancing a mistress and a future wife. With immoral delights, he invites you to enjoy his quest and its ends. In cleverly designed giant picture frames with just the right shifting background geographic projections at Florida Studio Theatre, the Victorian homes of the D’Ysquith family are revealed when a wooden curtain parts. It contains portraits of Monty and his relatives that will be crossed out as the latter are. Jimmy Nicholas’s Monty is so charming as he flashbacks his story from prison that he wins your complicity in his deadly but comic deeds. Richard Henry meets amazing demands of timing as the co-lead. He changes clothes, demeanor, and mostly supercilious attitudes interacting with Monty as all the direct D’Ysquith heirs. His Lady Hyacinth is especially noteworthy as he quickly assures she pursues causes in appropriate but exaggerated garb to such sites as Egypt, India, and a cannibalistic African village. Henry doesn’t avoid, though, showing all the heirs he impersonates are branches of the same tree. The love story that inspires some of the best music has Monty torn between loves. First he romances Sibella (Sarah Ellis, with beauty of face and form extending to her voice), who’s married for money and position. Then Monty’s prim, pretty cousin Phoebe (Alexandra Zorn, a Judy Garland look-act-sing-alike) comes into his life. One woman sings “I Don’t Know What I’d Do Without You”; the other, “I’ve Decided to Marry You.” You’re long kept in suspense about what Monty will do, other than wearing himself out keeping the two women apart, notably as he keeps them out of his narrow place in between library doors they’re separately behind. Next there’s the memoirs he forgets to bring with him when released from prison. Plus a familiar-looking janitor may be making demands. You can blame director Jason Cannon along with music master Darren Server for leading you to enjoy corny carnage. They don’t let their doubling supportive cast members miss a beat or a telling facial expression in any of their roles. You’ll find good lighting helping you see into the stage depths as well as actors’ facial close-ups. Sound is appropriate, with music sometimes like that of player pianos although too loud both throughout the production and during intermission. You’ll probably come out smiling from FST as you might from any great pleasure, even one tinged with a touch of guilt for laughing at something mischievously immoral.
