Steve Galluccio’s Mambo Italiano was a hit play that became a happily received film. In the same vein of The Birdcage, a farcical plot exposes families, what we will do (and not do) for family and how the world sees our crazy family.

Closeted Angelo lives with closeted Nino and all hell breaks loose when the two families find out, setting up a series of consequences that lead to certain life choices and revealed secrets that redefine not only the characters but our view of them in the world. I don’t want to be too explicit as the fun is watching the varying reactions and how they pan out.

Jayden Evett (also the producer) has done a fine job of re-locating the play to Wellington’s Island Bay. On opening night it is pretty obvious where those guys sit with the cast and writer reaping well-earned laughs from topical references, proving that the plot and characters survive this translocation well.

The characters are well defined and each has their own voice. This is due to the careful adaption as much as the strength of the original source. 

Opening night is certainly bumpy with cues and transitions and hopefully this will settle in the nights to come. However there are some problems that need to be addressed to fully unpack the comedy within the script. A number of times cueing of lines drags the pace down and what could be a sparkling, lively romp loses the energy needed to keep it humming along.

If the writing was of a lesser quality and without a receptive audience of family and friends, this would be a death knell for this style of comedy. Scene transitions are messy – some part of the action, others not; some done by characters, some by the actors out of character, some by stage hands – and mostly done in silence when some music would have easily supported flow from one scene to another. Actors tend to drop motivation and even character once they come to a door to exit rather than offstage.

The play is set in various locations and these are mostly bracketed well by Jack Hallahan’s design of hanging windows which are variously lit to denote different locales. I do like the choice to have one window the odd one out, reflecting Angelo’s presence in the ‘straight and usual’ world. But most scenes are played in the centre which requires so much movement of furniture pieces that it eventually grates not only on the floor but on my patience. Why not simply play some scenes on either side of the stage thereby letting the play flow faster? There’s unnecessary entry through the audience which adds little to the experience and doesn’t come across as a purposeful choice.

Rory Hammon’s lighting design (he also plays Angelo’s father Gino) makes the most of BATS pedestrian house rig with some additions of his own. Misplaced couches and other furniture meant that actors are playing on the cusp of, or outside of, the lit space. And I’m unconvinced by the regular use of the central spot with colours to denote emotion; it feels like an added layer rather than emerging organically from the design of the entire production. And this is not helped by bad operation. There are lighting states and timed transitions that simply do not work with the actors – I’m sure that two scenes are either lit reprehensively or they are transition states cued to early. These details are important for any director to be on top of, as they add to the feel, pace and playing of this style of comedy. 

Nino Raphael’s Angelo and Dominick Coppinger’s Nino are a fine couple in the midst of the crisis – Angelo’s outing bringing Nino’s strict closet into definition. There are some very fine tender moments and both do a good job of presenting well rounded characters.

Jane Paul, as Angelo’s sister Anna, can vocally be quite strident and loud (it’s quite a sound reflective space) but has a warm heart within that cynical energy. Paul and Raphael play very nicely together and absolutely nail the brother/sister dynamic.

The set-up of the parents is the trickiest part of the translocation: one foot firmly in Italia and one foot in Island Bay. Gino (Rory Hammond) and Maria (Finnian Nacey), and Nino’s mum Lina (Emilie Hope), thankfully don’t go overboard, though I do feel there is space to ‘inflate’ these types (this is a comedy of manners after all) to fully mine the laughs of the situation.

Rounding out the cast is Alexa Zelensky’s Pina, who is introduced to the boys as a possible love interest/solution. In the club scenes Zelensky grabs some great laughs with her interruptive cell phone. But Zelensky and Coppinger need to acknowledge the club they are in by the way they speak and the volume they talk at. A conversational tone seems at odds with the situation. I don’t mind other actors filling out the club in the background but it does seem odd that Angelo’s mother is there wearing her apron.

It’s an interesting thing to have Maria Barbieri (Angelo’s mother) played by a man in a production which is about sexuality. That there is no narrative reference to it I take as a casting choice rather than a political statement. Director Anastasia Roberts wisely gets Finnian Nacey to play her ‘straight’ (pun intended) which brings a tender honesty to the role.

Roberts does a fine job of eliciting well rounded characters from her cast, though on opening night perhaps nerves tend to stop some actors listening to their compatriots onstage. 

As Edmund Green said at the end of his life, “Dying easy, comedy is difficult.” This style of comedy, if not tackled with gusto and precision, will expose weak spots, and I think this is what has happened here. All of the personnel in this team are capable designers and players who just need more experience with this form. Anastasia Robert’s production will settle now that opening is out of the way and the play is definitely worth the effort to see. 

Copyright © in the review belongs to the reviewer