The season that snakebit-though-tenacious Theater Works has planned is emblematic of their forced move from within the sphere of influence of Sun City right into its very bowels. The play they are mounting as their opener is the most daring, and then the season slides into the expectations of a retirement community from there. Though not exactly cutting edge, and definitely not a premiere production for the Valley, the little-produced Steve Martin time-and-space bender Picasso at the Lapin Agile is an off-kilter comedy that allows for some deep thinking with its balanced mix of bathroom and brain teasing humor. Director Scott Campbell has tackled this potentially overwhelming script successfully, and the show features an unbalanced mix of great performances, acceptable imitations, and a few misfires. Even with the problems, this is a solid production worth dropping in on.

In a world just emerging from the clubby, coal-fire choked and industrially revolted nineteenth century, Martin hypothesizes a chance meeting between two men who would influence the twentieth century in different fields but similarly shattering ways just before their revelations: a haughty but likeable Albert Einstein and a libidinous Pablo Picasso. In the wild and crazy world of Steve Martin, though, this is not a battle of art versus science, but a sparring match between two great thinkers that is both ludicrous and thought provoking. The theory of relativity applies to the Lapin Agile, where the fourth wall is an illusion, time is an arbitrary measurement, and all that matters is the coming collision to the modern world of new ways of viewing everything. The sudden arrival of a time-traveling third influence shows just how odd the last century truly was.

Mr. Campbell has produced solid work here. The pacing and stage pictures are always engaging and the comedic timing measured. His choice of performers is mixed, as he aces some and merely makes do with others. Even the unbalanced cast is still successful at the strange and wonderful comedy, though, which makes this play a success.

Critical to the work are the performances of the young Einstein and Picasso. Joe Flowers, ordinarily an excellent performer, is saddled with a forced Swiss accent as well as an awful fright wig and horribly fake moustache (not pictured) in an attempt to create the trademarks of the instantly recognizable physicist. He carries the day, though, when not garbling his lines, with an obvious enjoyment of his creation. Underneath the ill-advised trappings and horrendous (and unnecessary, as Picasso never attempts one) accent is an understanding of the character that transcends the physical. His is a thoughtful performance that survives physical imitation. On the other hand, Ben Kennedy's smooth Picasso looks so much the part that it's disappointing when he opens his mouth and recites rather than lives his lines. Mr. Kennedy eventually redeems himself with his presentation of Picasso's revelation scene, but he never seems to inhabit the character.

Thankfully, Ron Hunting is around to carry the ensemble as the quipping old man, Gaston. It's hard to believe him in his sixties, yet Mr. Hunting imbues the character with the requisite counterbalances of elderly gestures and movements opposed by quick wit and youthful thought. Though a very strong performer, he never steals the scene, an added bonus. Michael Arbuckle's cosmic visitor is equally as excellent, taking a performance that could easily fall into mimicry and adding a tangible truth that is beyond impressive. Jamie McKeel's Suzanne, an admirer of Picasso's, does a great job of portraying dazzled and scorned appropriately. Bailey D. Caskey shines in her one moment of revelation near the end of this ninety minute one-act, moving beyond her earlier one-note performance to indicate a much deeper, much more intuitive waitress. Jason Gerace's Freddy is a bit too broadly played. It's true that he is written as a simpleton for a reason, but Mr. Gerace never quite becomes believable. Terry Hamilton is loud and brash as the loud and brash self-idolizer, Charles Schmendiman. Tim Avent is adequate as Picasso's dealer, Sagot.

Jim Pearsall has turned this banquet room into a solid representation of a turn-of-the-twentieth-century Parisian bar, no easy feat. Zack Quarles lighting, while having a few holes, is better than can be expected for the found space. Margaret Emerson's costumes are excellently chosen and fitting for all characters, from the thoroughly poetic looking choices for Picasso to the black, red and blue suede ensemble of the visitor. Jeb Johnson's sound design is solid.

I was very glad to see the house nearly full for this show, even if I was one of a handful below retirement age. From here on, Theater Works gives 'em what they expect to see at the Lakes Club in the heart of Sun City. Credit Mr. Campbell for at least adding one show that forces the over 55 crowd to stretch a little before settling in for familiarity.