On Stage: 'The Miser' freely shares the laughter

The Seattle Shakespeare Company's production of "The Miser" is a clown conspiracy. Everything about the show conspires to promote laughs.

Director Robert Currier, his production artists and his 11 actors have shrewdly considered the laugh potential of every moment in the show. More often than not they come up with stimuli worthy of a chuckle (or a titter at least) and sometimes a real guffaw.

Moliere's 1668 satirical farce is about the deadly sin of avarice. The characters take their assorted plights so seriously that their humorlessness turns out to be hilarious. Todd Jefferson Moore, in the title role, has the sly obsessiveness of a true maniac.

According to one assessment, this miser is exceedingly unwilling to part with anything that belongs to him. And so he only moves his bowels once every two weeks.

An all-hoarding-and-no-dispersing approach has made the miser wealthy. But it creates ludicrous problems. His son and daughter will only be allowed to marry for money. Of course, they rebel (amusingly). Brian Claudio Smith as the son and Jennifer Sue Johnson as the daughter portray unstoppable upper-class twits.

A widower, the miser desires a young and beautiful -- but frugal! -- wife. He is prey to a scheming matchmaker and three competitively deceitful servants. Leslie Law as the matchmaker and Craig Doescher, Daniel Brockley and Darragh Kennan as the servants all portray inspired manipulators.

Even plot twists are setups for jokes. The miser and his son are wooing the same ditzy blonde, played ditzily by Shanna Allman.

Costume designer Deane Middleton does her part in the service of clowning. The miser's son wears a multitude of cerise and azure satin ribbons, along with an orange wig that resembles a heaping portion of mashed yams. The matchmaker's frills and flounces could be a pastry chef's showpiece of nouveau meringue.

Sound design by M. Elizabeth Eller gets in a few jokes. Baroque 17th century music gives way to a blast of "That's What I Want!" when the miser does a passionate little dance, complete with energetic pelvic thrusts, with his money box.

Like the sound design, a pleasantly frisky translation from the French by David Chambers also makes use of comic anachronisms: At one point, the miser expresses his anxiety about sub-prime mortgage investments.

As often happens with giddy productions, some excesses of frenzy are unfunny. When the miser discovers that his money box is missing, the ensuing sound and light hullabaloo is particularly uninspired.

"The Miser" plays at the Center House Theatre, Seattle Center, through April 6. Tickets $30-$34, discounts for seniors and students; 206-733-8222 or seattleshakespeare.org.

The Coyote's after you

Chances are you know Coyote. You see the rascal coming and you have contradictory thoughts: "Oh no, not again, let me out of here," versus "What a guy, he's always got a crazy story to tell, let's check him out."

Coyote is the tavern blowhard, the work crew daredevil, the know-it-all at the family Thanksgiving table, the dating Web site cad, the idiot savant investor who's either broke or up to his ears in cash.

He has, indeed, pulled off some fabulous stunts. How else could he get to be a legend? For he is legendary, a genuine archetype. It was he who stole fire for the benefit of earthlings (think Prometheus). Not only that, he visited the world of the dead, brought his wife back to life and then lost her because of faulty impulse control (think Orpheus).

Orpheus and Prometheus are ancient Greek gods, but every culture has its own version of an untamable rascal/hero. Coyote is the protagonist of innumerable American Indian stories.

Seattle Children's Theatre is currently presenting an enchanting compendium of Coyote tales brought to life by the Cherokee/Tlingit/Filipino storyteller Gene Tagaban under the direction of Sheila Daniels.

Tagaban gives a lively account of duplicity (Coyote hustling Rock), romance (Coyote in love with a star), wonder (Coyote's trip to the land of the dead) and criminal intent (Coyote's frustrated efforts to eat a fellow trickster, Rabbit).

"According to Coyote," the play, is itself legendary. It was devised by the late John Kauffman, a brilliant Seattle actor/playwright. Kauffman -- Nez Perce mother, German-American father -- performed "Coyote" all over the world before his death at age 42 in 1990. "Coyote" was commissioned by the Kennedy Center in Washington, D.C., where it premiered in 1986. The Children's Theatre produced the show in 1989 with Tony Soper playing the title role and Kauffman directing.

"According to Coyote" runs through May 11 at Seattle Children's Theatre, Seattle Center. Tickets $17-$33; 206-441-3322 or sct.org.