The North Court Grille is an haute cuisine eatery in a bellyfodder town, owned by an aging child-of-the-’60s with the soul of a poet, the palate of a connoisseur, and the drinking capacity of a camel. During one of his bouts of bibulation, he lost the restaurant in a Mafioso poker game, and now an agent of Mister Big has come to seize the property. Further complicating the intrigue is the new bartender, who was once the manager’s high school sweetheart. This, naturally, sparks his current girl friend’s jealousy, until a mysterious stranger conveniently sweeps the latter off her feet. The staff also includes the owner’s serene spouse, a cheerfully round-heeled waitress, a silent kitchen-scullion, and two dope-smoking chefs (one of whom is given to Simba-the-lion impressions).
There’s a TV-comedy series pilot in this play, or at least a career on the dinner-theatre circuit. Though the playwright claims to have based his text on actual people and experiences, his universe is populated by the familiar infantile men and motherly women (who can’t help loving the Big Lugs), all of whom discuss their most intimate affairs at their workplace—where, except for folding napkins, nobody is ever seen doing any work. The North Court employee lounge even has a fully stocked bar in it, the better to promote confidential exchanges and ineffectual hanky-panky.
This is not to say that The Wine Seller is not enjoyable within the conventions of its genre. Jason Sheldon’s script could use some editing—characters often repeat two or three times what they only need say once—but the personalities comprise a diverse and jolly surrogate-family unit, the violence is inconsequential, and we guess the identity of the Deus Ex Machina only a very short time before it is revealed to us.
The playbill for this Baum House production lists no credit for the set designer who created its cozy basement cocoon in which an industrious cast, under the direction of Matthew Gunnels, endow their shallow personae with genial charm. They are led by the author himself in the role of the gone-to-seed sommelier (but note Chris Carpenter and Benjamin Morphis’ infectiously quirky performances as the volatile North Court cooks).