EDMONTON - Black Comedy was an early theatrical exercise (1965) by Peter Shaffer (Amadeus/Equus/The Royal Hunt of the Sun).

The original starred a young Albert Finney and the work has gone on to become a theatrical staple.

It's a rather one-joke farce but Shaffer is endlessly inventive and, when it's mounted by a company that gets it, it can be a very funny evening.

This capable young company of players at the University of Alberta give it all they've got, and with the help of veteran director, Kim McCaw, keep the laughs coming for the entire (intermissionless) 90 minutes.

The play begins in complete blackness as struggling sculptor Brindsley Miller (a rubber -faced, loose-limbed Nikolai Witschl) and his girlfriend (Delia Barnett -- with a killer giggle) nervously discuss the coming evening. Brindsley is to meet her stuffy ex-military father, Col. Melkett (Adam Cope). Also expected is the eccentric "world's richest man" George Bamberger (Piet Defraeye), who may become the sculptor's patron.

Suddenly the lights go up onstage and everyone starts groping around. Shaffer reveals his joke -- when the theatre is dark, the lights are on for them. But when the stage lights are up -- they are in the dark -- it's the result of a power failure.

Which leaves his characters falling all over themselves (and the furniture).

It's a very funny slapstick premise and a great visual gag but a joke that could get old very quickly.

But Shaffer keeps adding new characters and new situations.

The characters are, of course, recognizable English stereotypes but that is how this kind of farce works.

The blustery colonel is intent on checking out Brindsley as a prospective son-in-law. Elliott, the fussy guy next door shows up. Since Brindsley has stolen all his nice furniture for the evening, they have to keep him literally in the dark, while the harried sculptor, in a hilarious scene, moves all the furniture back across the hall -- nearly skewering his guests in a carefully choreographed scene. A Miss Furnival (Mary Hulbert) wanders on. She's a maiden lady of religious bent and, of course, doesn't drink (which doesn't stop her from getting into the sauce -- which, she says, she thinks is lemon water). Of course, on the way to getting potted, she is the one who is constantly groped in the dark as the other characters try to find their way around.

The mysterious millionaire and an employee of the London Electrical Service show up and join in the confusion. Even Brindsley's old girlfriend appears and starts to take her clothes off.

All this silliness is as broad as a London double-decker omnibus but the well-practised cast makes most of the physical comedy work (they must be black and blue by the end of the evening).

There are a number of inspired comic bits and more than a couple of moments when you will be holding your sides.

Tickety-boo, all.

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