Though farce is a staple of American theater, its appeal largely eludes me. Though farce is a staple of American theater, its appeal largely eludes me. Performances are nightly except Mondays, with matinee performances each Saturday and Sunday. Take stupid, venal, bullheaded characters, put them in ridiculous situations and have them immediately leap to the most far-fetched conclusions and take the least logical courses of action, and you've got the essence of farce. You've also got the essence of Love, Sex and the IRS, the latest offering from the Alhambra Dinner Theatre.
Speed is the essence.
If the audience is given time to think about what's going on, it may occur to them they are watching dumb people do dumb things. Booth rarely gives an audience time to think. The setup of Love, Sex and the IRS is particularly farfetched. Jon, who is an aspiring musician who also happens to be an accountant, has been filing joint tax returns listing his roommate, Leslie, as his wife. In fact, they not only aren't married, but Leslie and Jon are the same sex.