Hall, Hamilton.

*** Some comedy has a universal appeal. When Charlie Chaplin, on a visit to the Far East, decided on the spur of the moment one night to put on a bowler hat and silly moustache and do a quick rendition of his clown character, the normally reserved Japanese, who had never heard of the man before, were rolling about the aisles with an uncontrollable attack of the giggles.

Sometimes humour can travel well, particularly the knockabout slapstick sort of stuff that Mr. Chaplin and other giants of the silent film era were so brilliant at performing.

But sometimes it can also fall flat on its face -- with unamusing consequences. What the Americans find funny can leave a Frenchman stoneyfaced.

What might go down well in Latvia could be totally misunderstood in London.

So it is with Grip 'Im, which is based on an old Niger-Congo folk tale about health, wealth and happiness and how we struggle to obtain it.

In some ways it reminded me of the traditional British pantomime -- plenty of energetic over the top characters running about and pretending to beat the living daylights out of each other. The storyline was childishly predictable and there was also a simple moral message beneath the surface knockabout stuff.

The one snag was it just wasn't that funny -- always a disappointment in a comedy.

Here's the basic storyline.

Grumble is a dissatisfied wife who feels she could have done better in the marriage stakes. Although she's always nagging at her husband, Poorman, he is oblivious to her unhappiness, too busy with his head in the clouds, dreaming of the day when he'll become a rich farmer.

In the middle of yet another argument they are visited by an angel who grants them both one wish. Poorman, concerned about the theft of oranges from his yard, asks that whoever tries to steal them will become glued to the tree, only to be released at his command. Grumble asks that her husband be struck down dead.

When the couple's landlord gets stuck to the tree while picking an orange Poorman suddenly holds the trump card. His dreams of being rich come true when the landlord agrees to let him have the farm rent free as a condition of his release.

But then the Devil arrives to carry out Grumble's wish -- the death of her husband.

Poorman manages to trick the Devil into picking an orange, she gets stuck to the tree and is then sent back to Hell. Grumble and Poorman, with a newfound appreciation of each other then live happily ever after.

The Black Box troupe acted admirably. Leighsa Darrell-Augustus was brilliant as the feisty but not too bright Grumble and although Tona Douglas only had a small part to play as the nosy neighbour, she carried it off well.

Tyrone Smith was more than competent as Poorman while Orrin Caines, making his stage debut as Landlord, got to the audience with his comic facial expressions and underplayed delivery.

There were elements that were amusing but only because the production team had the good sense to throw in some contemporary, Bermudianesque lines. Poorman fantasizing about `PamPam' and `Jennie' paying a visit to his house along with the Governor had the crowd in stitches and Landlord, who was also canvassing to be elected to the House of Assembly in an upcoming election, did a brilliant mimic of our Deputy Premier.

At nearly two hours long the play didn't exactly drag but at the same time it wasn't a laugh a minute either. That's not the fault of the Black Box Performance Workshop, it's just that we all find different things funny.

GARETH FINIGHAN REVIEW REV THEATRE THR