Send Me No Flowers at Little Theatre of Virginia Beach is quite possibly the finest comedy I’ve ever seen on local non-professional stages. It made me roar with laughter. Not only is it remarkably funny, it’s positively unique.

Playwrights Norman Barasch and Carroll Moore tell the tale of hypochondriac George Kimball, a walking medical diagnostic manual of ailments. He overhears a phone conversation between his doctor and a colleague about a patient destined to die in the near future of a bum ticker. Kimball assumes they are speaking of him and the end is near. The focus of his final days is to prepare his wife Judy for life without him. Priority number one is to set her up with a future husband. Twists and turns of mistaken motives abound. It was first produced onstage in 1960, and Hollywood made it into a feature film.

Director Sarah B. Quilenderino takes definite artistic license. Intended to take place in the ballpark of 1960, her production is set in 1977. The character Dr. Ralph Morrissey is played by a woman (the first name becomes Rachel) and the décor and color scheme are that of thirty years ago. Also, allusions change and the price of a cemetery plot goes from $1000 to $5000. There is no rule book pertaining to the advisability of taking a play out of its intended time period-it simply works, or it doesn’t. In this case, it succeeds. I accepted the world Quilenderino created.

Also, the style of performance is off the beaten path. It mocks typical sitcom acting, especially that of thirty or more years ago. Clichéd line deliveries and gestures light-heartedly make fun of the mode of performance of yesteryear. The bending of a leg at the knee while embracing is the norm.  Furthermore, portions are exploited to the fullest for their slapstick potential. Again, there is no definite right or wrong regarding this type of treatment - and again, it works.

It works because it’s well executed. Quilenderino took gambles with the stylistic choices and made them function. She also chose an above average cast. She turned what could have been the same-old, same-old into a unique night of big belly laughs.   

One of the only weaknesses of the show relates to the less comedic sections of the story. Judging from what I saw last weekend, director and cast are more inclined to the light and happy.  The more “serious” parts are quite pedestrian. But, as the script changes back to overt comedy, the production gets back on track.  At any rate, a solid majority of the show bolls along merrily and both fine direction and acting are prevalent.  

The cast possesses above average comedic timing and energy. They work together superbly, having lots of fun in the process.

Travis McHenry (George Kimball) capably keeps the motor of Send Me No Flowers humming as the hypochondriac lead. He is the heartbeat of the show. However, his portrayal of various aches and pains is less than believable. True, it’s all in the character’s head, but he really believes it. McHenry didn’t, so I didn’t. Still, the memory of his energy is lasting.

Heidi Kaiktsian (Judy) is on target as a housewife who turns desperate dealing with her, to say the least, quirky husband. She possesses timing that belies her lack of stage experience, and looks great doing it.

As is often the case in community theatre, the age of those cast versus the age the characters “should be” (and relative to one another), didn’t match up one hundred percent. In this production, George Kimball apparently married a woman a bit his senior. This looks awkward, but I can't really blame him, Judy is a pretty attractive woman.

Bill Vaughan (Arnold) puts the pedal to the metal out there. His drunk, physically-comedic performance borders on genius. He plays his straight (sober) times well, too.  Adiya Johnson-Boone (Dr. Morrissey) is also hilarious. Her powerful, no-nonsense slant on Morrissey is appropriate and commendable.

Joel King (Bert) smoothly and commandingly portrays the rich man set to be Judy’s future husband. King is typically in heavier material playing heavier characters. He now proves he can shine in comedy.

Cherise Charanza (Miss Mason) and Marianne Bennett (Girl) put out good work in their roles during the various fantasy sequences throughout the play. Jonathan Stephenson, a man of size, is shocking and funny as the cemetery plot salesman and James Jordan (Vito) is properly youthful.

Scenic designer Sarah B. Quilenderino’s semi-abstract set is more than adequate. Dominated by green and orange, the loud colors both help set the tone of the show and put it the 1970s.

Lighting designers Jeff Brangan and Quilenderino do a quality job. The illumination is general and bright, and turns dreamlike during fantasy portions. Those segments work well in tandem with the musical underscoring. The soundtrack features many top songs from the 1970s. On a down note, the cuing going into and out of the fantasy times (both sound and lights) was hit or miss. My guess is the board operators need to get on the ball.

Costume designer Nancy King’s realistic outfits were of quality from beginning to end. I believed the characters would wear what they did, and their clothes seemed to fit.  But then there’s the issue of hair, especially pertaining to the men... It’s tough to get a whole group of guys with longer, shaggier-than-average hair to show up at auditions for a play that takes place in the 1970s these days. All the men, with the exception of Jonathan Stephenson, have short hair. Travis McHenry even has a shaved head! Where are the afros and fu-manchus? Oh, well. It would have been ridiculous to slap wigs on the guys, so you can’t fault the costume designer. Longer hair could have made it look more “1970s”, but it wasn’t that big a deal.

All in all, Send Me No Flowers is the best comedy I have seen on local amateur stages.