Crazy Spotlight Productions (CSP) thrives four months a year. Over the past five years, it is a pattern they have not allowed to go awry. Most of CSP are studying abroad and theatre happens in summer, when they are home. “We audition in May, rehearse through June and July and stage in August,” says Nikhil Mehta, founder of CSP and director of their latest comedy, “One Night Only.”
The group is also marked by its penchant for humour. Comedies make them, and they swear, “We enjoy doing it.”
The past week, the group staged “One Night Only” at the Alliance Francaise. Adapted from Ken Ludwig's “Lend Me a Tenor”, the play takes on an Indian avatar with “One Night Only.”
What if the protagonist for the most-anticipated show of the evening dies hours before the performance? Instead of announcing “with deep regret” to “ladies and gentlemen” that Rajinder Singh, the man who immortalised Raavan in “Raavan ki Atmakatha” is no more, Kabir, the manager, coaxes his personal assistant, who anyway is well-versed with the lines and also a closet actor, to adorn the role.
“One Night Only” stems from this confusion — the sleeping presumed to be dead, the assistant mistaken for the star, the star trying to convince he is the real one, and the women getting mixed up about their man. Chaos emanates from the elements of the play within the play.
Every character knows the route to entertainment. Ranvir, the fidgety personal assistant, is not able to convince his boss's sister (Maya) to go on a date with him. Maya, who doesn't want to “settle down” with Ranvir as yet, even if it is for a date, fancies the ultimate man in the only role he has ever done — Rajinder Singh as Raavan.
Rajinder Singh, the hard-core Punjabi, wants to transcend his background, but is unable too. Anjali is his foul-mouthed, full-throttled Punjabi fiancée, whose confidence is her earthiness.
Mehta has adapted the play well to an Indian scenario. Of all the mythological characters, Rajinder's trump card being Raavan has its allure. The sets work, with the space neatly partitioned into a living space and a bedroom and the action at times unfolding in both simultaneously but neatly melting into a whole.
Yet the play's bane, as it is often in comedies, is its women characters. Except Anjali, who instantly evokes laughter the moment she comes on stage, the other women seem carved off the same block of wood. Only their exaggerated mannerisms vary, but their one-point agenda is Rajinder Singh.
Though a tad clichéd, Anjali works, rather through the individual attention given to the character and the buoyant abandon the actor (Mallika Dua) brings to her role. If Rajinder Singh's forte is meant to be his impeccable Punjabi background, then the accent is crucial. But it systematically slips for the actor and the rural Punjabi twang often gives way to a polished American one.
Despite the drawbacks, “One Night Only” keeps up the momentum even at close to two hours.
