Jean Genet’s absurdist play The Maids is a deep and violent exploration of the separation and enslavement of poverty and on the love hate relationship those in servitude feel for those who hold their figurative chains. The Maids, though, is more than a celebration of the “Other,” it is also a fictionalizing of a high profile murder case involving two young sisters working as maids and their mistresses in 1930s France. The many symbols and intricacies of the plot are there for those who are willing to delve deeper. Those interested in the search will have a hard time divining these from the start of iTheatre Collaborative’s latest production of the three-person play as directed by Mike Traylor. Several of the conventions of the original script have been passed over or flattened, such as the use of men for all three female roles (one, Neil Cohen, is used instead in the role of Madame). Traylor has instead used two similar-looking and aged actresses (Rosemary Close as self-loathing elder sister Solange and Lucy Payjack as dominant younger sister Claire) to portray the main roles. He has also asked them to broaden their initial offeing of the production into a high farce, having all three rush their line delivery in a sputtering, desperate, and often stumbling way. While there is a lot of comedy within this multi-layered cautionary tale of the rebellious seething of the lower classes, when it is served at Grand Prix speeds, the most obvious element that comes out is the humor, leaving behind much of the symbolism and sharp wordplay in its wake.

The acting, blocking, and bits Traylor and his ensemble offer in this evening (performed without intermission) are quite funny. Close’s creepiness and Payjack’s over-the-top impersonation of their employer make up for their being much too old for their roles. Close uses her wide, pale eyes for stagy sinister moments, and Payjack’s scenery gnawing is a constant source of laughs. However, in the first half, it’s hard to understand what they’re saying half the time, let alone believe that they are even aware of the subtext. When Cohen gracefully and regally enters the scene in a grand drag, the pacing slows enough to allow for a more leisurely and pointed look at what all of the angst and gnashing of teeth is about. Where the maids had been ripping through a nasty role-playing exercise with murderous intentions prior, the action becomes a bumbling of servitude and bungling of a poisoning. After this, the pacing returns to a higher level, but the comedy gives way to gloominess and dread that goes a good way toward atoning for the missed opportunities in the first half of the show. It is only at the catharsis, as Payjack self-immolates and Close waxes poetic in a long-winded-but-important monologue, that the cast finally looks at home exploring the depths of the script.

The unbilled set design, appearing to be a Gregory Jaye creation, is a wonderfully lavish visual commentary on the situation. Robert X. Planet’s excellent costumes capture perfectly the levels and stations of the characters.

This production follows a dependable path of titter-laugh-guffaw-body slam. Though Traylor and his cast’s initial choices for excessive humor in the first half give an audience too much of a chance to miss where things are heading, from the moment the poisoned “tay” makes its appearance, the show sets itself right and drives the audience to its thought-provoking conclusion.