(Ben Brantley’s article appeared in The New York Times, 2/1; via Pam Green.)
LONDON — Comedy comes in many shades, from jet black to shocking pink. In a rare moment of giddy confluence, the theaters here seem to have the whole rainbow on display.
Truly funny plays tend to be the exception rather than the rule in New York these days. So I have grabbed the chance here to wander across the spectrum of what makes people laugh – and groan and sigh.
Within only a few days, I was able to savor both the midnight blues of the first-rate revival of Kevin Elyot’s “My Night With Reg,” a portrait of gay men quipping and quailing in the shadow of AIDS, and the stage-blood-red farce of “The Play That Goes Wrong,” an unexpected, gut-busting hit about an incompetent amateur troupe staging a mystery melodrama.