A remarkable thing is happening right now at Arena Stage: They are performing a romantic comedy that somehow escapes the nauseating and hackneyed nature of the genre as a whole. On the contrary, Arena’s latest production, On the Jump, is both cleverly engaging and surprisingly refreshing. Granted, the script offers more than a few variations and twists on the traditional boy-meets-girl theme, but the play is still a romantic comedy at its core, and a genuinely enjoyable one at that.
Written by John Glore, On the Jump opens with a fury of calamity and despair as young, innocent Colleen Ferguson experiences one travesty after another. At the outset, she is robbed and deserted by her husband on their wedding night. Her bad luck refuses to relent?that same night, the watch her late father gave her stops running, she loses her coat on the street, and a homeless guy swipes the bottle of scotch in which she was drowning her sorrows.
Colleen’s desperation leads her to a deserted bridge in the middle of the night. At this point, the audience is cued to sense impending tragedy with a simulated storm, complete with flashes of lightning and howling wind, augmented by an army of high woodwind instruments rapidly screaming up and down in a tone of horror and doom. And lest anyone doubt the evil of the bridge, a cloud of artificial fog rises up and obscures the stage floor, as if to scream, “I am foreboding!”
However, in spite of a disaster-bearing bridge, and perhaps even more disastrous design decisions, Colleen does not throw herself into the murky depths of the river below. In a twist of fate, someone else was also contemplating suicide on the same bridge that night. Enter the archetype for the depressed, disillusioned, self-absorbed young urban professional of the 21st century, Albert. Although both girl and boy independently resolve not to kill themselves that evening, Colleen’s presence startles Albert so much that he slips and accidentally falls off the bridge anyway.
After this melodramatic introductory sequence finally simmers down, the play actually gets good. Through a series of misunderstandings, which Colleen feels too weary?and later too guilty?to correct, Albert’s wealthy grandparents essentially adopt Colleen into their home, believing that Albert was in fact her husband. The distinguished Victoria Boothby and Bernie Passeltiner virtually light up the stage with their portrayal of the Wheatcrofts, Albert’s kindly grandparents, in a way that makes you sigh contentedly whenever they enter.
At this point, the ingenuity of the set design starts to make itself clear. Alexander Dodge adroitly draws alternately on minimalism and literalism, providing elaborate sets only when they are necessary. While one bench represents an entire police station and two fabulously garish bean bag chairs serve as Colleen’s best friend’s apartment, the coffee shop under the bridge comes complete with upholstered bar stools and a neon sign. Dodge’s sets are also very fluid, allowing the actors to change the scene without interrupting the action.
After having taken up residence at the Wheatcroft estate, Colleen discovers stacks of Albert’s old letters, addressed to an imaginary companion, in which he elaborates on his general disenchantment with life. While the letters tend to be insightful, if hyperanalytical, David Barlow’s oral delivery of them is less than inspired, virtually spraying the audience with his overenunciation and overdramatization. In fact, Barlow is much too emphatic in general to be convincing as the deadened, despondent Albert. Nevertheless, Colleen is so moved by Albert’s ramblings that she has his letters published.
Only one problem: Albert isn’t dead. After miraculously surviving his fall, he finds out about the charlatan posing as his widow and deeply resents her presumptuous publishing (and editing) of his personal letters. At the same time, he is in search of the woman with whom he connected for an instant that night on the bridge, having absolutely no idea that they are one in the same person. Thus Colleen juggles a budding romance with fellow bridge-jumper Albert, a life of family and falsehood at the Wheatcrofts’, and a suspicious butler and a blackmailing landlady who are onto the whole charade.
Through it all, Andrea Anders shines in the role of Colleen, pulling the audience right into the absurd series of misfortunes which define her life. Although it is very easy to grow tired of her facial and vocal expressions of constant preoccupation and bewilderment, the script nearly necessitates them. In the end, Colleen’s good nature prevails, and Anders succeeds nicely in the difficult job of making the audience care.
Romantic comedy is seldom done well, but Arena Stage proves with On the Jump that it is certainly possible. Additionally, this production works well in the amphitheater arrangement of the Fichandler stage, drawing in the audience in a manner that compensates for occasionally awkward blocking and obstructed views. As its title suggests, On the Jump is quite a ride and hardly without its flaws, but it is certainly a ride worth taking.
On the Jump is running through Feb. 17 in the Fichandler theater at Arena Stage, 1101 6th St., S.W. Tickets range from $27 to $45, student discounts are available.
