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Melody A. Johnson and Trish Lindström in In the Next Room or the vibrator play. (CYLLA VON TIEDEMANN)

In the Next Room or the vibrator play offers good vibrations, but it’s not as funny as it could be

Ignorance isn’t bliss. Written by American playwright Sarah Ruhl, In the Next Room or the vibrator play deals in Victorian Age unawareness, mostly of a sexual nature and more specifically, 19th-century society’s obliviousness to the female orgasm. This Manitoba Theatre Centre/Tarragon Theatre co-production — running until Nov. 19 at the Tom Hendry Warehouse — delivers lots of chuckles and some stimulating subject matter, but it’s not exactly standing (or screaming) O stuff.

Set in the house/office of one Dr. Givings (Gordon Tanner), the story starts with Sabrina Daldry (Melody A. Johnson), a hysterical housewife who sees ghosts in her green curtains. She’s come to the right place. Thanks to Edison’s electricity, female hysteria is easily healed with a newfangled vibrating device which induces so-called "paroxysms," sudden shudders and shivers guaranteed to shake the spirits out of the shades.

Hearing what happens in her husband’s home office, Catherine Givings (Trish Lindström) is overcome with curiosity but plagued by near-perfect health. That doesn’t mean she doesn’t deserve a good buzz or even a healing hand. Reliant on a wet nurse to feed her newborn baby and supremely sexually frustrated (not considered a problem or even a thing at the time), Catherine isn’t feeling fulfilled and desperately wants to receive a little of Edison’s medicine. Unfortunately, her physician husband is no Dr. Love. He’s strictly a man of science and has no desire or even idea to share his magic stick for sexual purposes.

Given this theme, comedy comes easily. It’s as simple as watching Johnson squirm under a sheet, making all kinds of sex faces. But most of the humour isn’t overtly sexual. In fact, ignorance induces the most laughter. For instance, Dr. Givings is such a consummate professional, he turns his back as Catherine disrobes. Despite having sex with his wife, it’s safe to say he’s never seen her naughty bits and, apart from his bishop, he’s definitely never touched them.

While most of the play’s humour is based in half-knowledge, there’s another source of silliness. Catherine is a jumpy, jittery character who is continually putting her foot in her mouth. She’s so on edge that at one point she unintentionally cracks a dead baby joke. Anxiously amusing, Lindström blurts and babbles with fine comic timing.

Despite its well-handled humour, In the Next Room isn’t all it could be in the funny department. Pre-treatment, the play drags. Some jokes just lack punch; others come up completely lame. Even after the good vibrations, things aren’t hilarious until the second act — and even that’s somewhat brief, as the story moves towards more serious topics. Sure, Ruhl’s script is intended to explore more than just sheer silliness but with its "or the vibrator play" subtitle, you’re expecting some shoulder-shaking, belly-aching laugh-out-loud moments.

In other words, In the Next Room never quite climaxes.