As ostensible comedies go, The Philadelphia Story is only marginally funnier than Philadelphia. Barry drops dozens of 1930s references you'll need the glossary in the program to understand, but not many jokes. It's one of those plays where people take a magic narcotic that makes them blab secrets at each other, only to suffer that bizarre theater hangover that causes limping hours later. The first act introduces as many characters as Season One of Downton Abbey, only to waste several on a pointless subplot about the editor of a Fortune-esque magazine. People fall in love instantly, only to make more impulsive, unlikely reversals minutes later.

Again, not Harlequin's fault. Linda Whitney not only directs with precision but offers, yet again, a truly beautiful set design - two, in fact. I can't say enough about Helen Harvester's lead performance. She captures the regal arm acting and Bryn Mawr drawl of Katharine Hepburn, for whom the role was written, without indulging in caricature. Same goes for Aaron Lamb, who has Jimmy Stewart's way of swallowing his lines without bounding around the stage like George Bailey from a Looney Tunes parody. The whole cast is outstanding, really, so I wish I could be more positive about the script. I just found myself wondering if Tracy'd be better off ditching these knobs for a week at Club Med.

Read Christian Carvajal's full review of The Phiadelphia Story in the Weekly Volcano's Arts section.

HARLEQUIN PRODUCTIONS, THE PHILADELPHIA STORY, THROUGH APRIL 6, 8 P.M. THURSDAY-SATURDAY, 2 P.M. SUNDAY, $20-$38, 202 FOURTH AVE. E., OLYMPIA, 360.786.0151