The ominous title belies the silly shenanigans of “Women in Jeopardy.”
Live Theatre Workshop’s production of Wendy MacLeod’s 2015 fanciful farce, which opened March 31, is packed with laughter from misunderstandings, misjudgments, mistrust and missteps.
The action centers on a trio of divorced women of a certain age who live in Salt Lake City — acerbic Jo (Annette Hillman), mom-to-all Mary (Rhonda Hallquist), and bubbly, overly trusting Liz (Missie Scheffman). Gal pals for more than 20 years, they enjoy spending time together at book club, fun runs, classes and sipping wine. Lots of wine.
Liz ditches Mary and Jo for her new boyfriend, Jackson (Richard Ivey), a dentist who gives Jo and Mary the creeps.
Jackson sneers and leers, makes inappropriate, cringeworthy sexist remarks, and looks like horror novelist Stephen King. In addition, his hygienist has vanished from his dental practice’s parking lot, he was the last one to see her alive, and he loaned her a copy of “The Silence of the Lambs.”
With these points in mind, Mary and Jo jump to the only logical conclusion possible: Jackson is a serial killer. To top off their anguish: Jackson is taking Liz’s eyeball-rolling 19-year-old daughter, Amanda (Emily Gates), camping to a remote canyon that doesn’t have cellphone service.
Mary tries to use her banana coffee cake baking skills to dissuade Amanda from making the trip, but her efforts only make Amanda angry. Mary and Jo seek the aid of a procedure-driven police sergeant who is a doppelgänger for Jackson, and Stephen King. He attempts some awkward flirtations with Mary and ignores Jo, but solving the murder or abduction comes first.
Mary sets off to persuade Amanda’s snowboarder former boyfriend, Trenner (Danny Quinones), to rescue his ex from the killer. Somehow Trenner misunderstands her intentions and believes Mary, who has known him since preschool, is coming on to him and wants him to till her yard, so to speak.
Stereotypes abound, but the crisp, bright writing and sharp, precise performances elevate “Women in Jeopardy” above conventions and clichés.
Hillman and Hallquist are a formidable acting duo. Hillman delivers the smart, forthright — OK, snarky — one-liners that speak what everyone else is thinking while Hallquist lets Mary’s thoughtful and practical nature shine. Scheffman is effervescent, yet shows the vulnerability of a woman desperately wanting to believe in her man.
From Hillman’s oversized, colorful eyeglasses and her sensible shoes to Scheffman’s fishnet hose and colorful leggings, costumer Stephanie Frankenfield’s choices enhance characters. You get a better picture of who they are by the clothes they wear.
Ivey seamlessly shifts between the Neanderthal-like dentist and the by-the-book police sergeant, Kirk, using his pliable expressions and postures to make a physical transition between the two. Gates’ teenager is overwrought, irrational, spontaneous, hard to please and spoiled. In other words, a perfectly typical teen.
Quinones is charming, and he evokes belly laughs as he clumsily tries to be smooth, sexy and suave when he thinks an older woman is interested in him. Yet he sweetly exposes his character’s everyday naiveté in simple scenes, such as when he discusses the difference between a blouse and a T-shirt, and explains he doesn’t know what a pantry is. We hope to see more of Quinones on Tucson stages.
“Women in Jeopardy” is woven from highly improbable situations and rehashes some well-worn concepts, such as how women are valued. (The missing hygienist is “the pretty one.”) However, director Roberto Guajardo keeps the action from going excessively over the top or slipping into the tried and tired.
“Women in Jeopardy” is laugh-out-loud funny and you might find yourself saying “paprika” with a new lilt in your voice.
