I can’t remember when I’ve laughed out loud so much at the theatre!

Ben Hecht and Chas. MacArthur’s 1920 comedy about Chicago newspaper reporters looking for the “big scoop” has been done by just about every theatre group, and was made into a successful movie.

Having seen the movie, and the play a number of times, I wasn’t overly excited about seeing it again.

Surprise! Director Ed Shea has taken the old chestnut, jazzed it up with rapid-fire dialogue and movement, and turned it into a non-stop, hilarious evening of theatre. And he does it all in less than two hours, which is good, because you need another hour to catch your breath.

You may remember the storyline: Ace reporter Hildy Johnson (veteran 2nd Story actor Jim Sullivan at his best) is leaving his profession to get married and go into advertising.

He stops by the prison press room to say “Good-bye” to his fellow reporters on the eve of a major execution. The prisoner escapes, and through a series of wild and crazy events, ends up in a roll top desk, guarded over by Hildy. How he escaped is as funny as it gets.

You can see it coming: Hildy’s fiancé and her mother are there to take him away from the sordid pack of journalists. Hildy sees the story of his life in front of him. What’s a guy to do?

There’s a great surprise ending that will leave you laughing.

Along the way, you’ll be treated to some insane action, corny lines, and lots of nostalgia.

The opening scene has a half dozen reporters all talking at once, either to each other or on the phone to their newspapers. It takes a few moments to adjust to the chaos, but when you do, you’ll realize just how clever both the writers and director are in creating the scene.

Sullivan takes command of the story every time he steps into the room, but he also shares a number of hysterical scenes with the large cast, each of whom has his or her moments.

From a two-minute scene with a frustrated wife (Paula Faber) looking for her husband, to the final scene with the appearance of Hildy’s editor (Bob Colonna at his best), The Front Page never slows down.

There are twenty actors in the cast… too many to mention, and they work together in a finely woven ensemble.

I must single out John Michael Richardson, a marvelous character actor, who has taken the role of Bensinger, the hypochondriac, to new heights, and Luis Astudillo, who gives us an hysterical mobster.

Tom Roberts plays the Chicago mayor with a flair for the dramatic that emphasizes the political satire. Janine Weisman is the fiancé from hell. You will love hating her.

Erin Meghan Donnelly has created, and gathered up, the perfect costumes for the period, complete with the old style hats, suspenders, and vests.

Trevor Elliot puts the audience right in the middle of the messy press room, filled with vintage wooden furniture and a window that plays an important part in the production.

The Front Page is great escapism comedy, but it also has some good dialogue about the political system of the twenties, which doesn’t seem much different from today.

The Front Page is at 2nd Story Theatre, 28 Market St. in Warren through February 15. Don’t miss it.

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Unless you're talking a two-minute rendition of Hamlet, it's hard to think of anything more suited to the finger-snapping style of 2nd Story Theatre than a screwball comedy. And none were screwier or more comical than The Front Page, by Ben Hecht and Charles MacArthur, which is galloping around the Warren stage through February 15.

Unless you were raised by woodland creatures, you've probably seen the 1940 film classic, His Girl Friday. With Cary Grant playing the badgering editor and Rosalind Russell as his ace reporter, that was one of no less than nine adaptations. The original was a Broadway play of 1928, in a period of tabloid-mentality and fact-oblivious reporting that the microphone-wielding Geraldos of our time must have earnestly studied.

With 20 actors hurtling through two brisk acts, director Ed Shea easily conveys the crowded bustle of a TV screen and with more challenge gets across the temper of the time. Things open with a gang of reporters playing poker in the seedy press room of the Chicago Criminal Courts Building, amidst a forest of those old-fashioned standup telephones on designer Trevor Eliot's convincing set. Every once in a while some tentative information comes in that doesn't rise to the 1920s level of news ― a lovers' quarrel/murder gets them excited for a moment, but it happened in Chinatown so it doesn't count.

The reporters are on a deathwatch that evening. The gallows outside their open window is being noisily tested with sandbags, because a convicted murderer is going to be hanged at 7 am. Not only is he accused of being a Red, but he also killed a cop. Since the policeman was black and an election is coming up, even the corrupt mayor (Tom Roberts) is impatient for what passes for justice.

But the real story begins when cocky colleague Hildy Johnson (Jim Sullivan) shows up. He's saying goodbye to the boys while his fiancé and mother-in-law wait downstairs in a taxi. Before long, the murderer has escaped and, after he climbs in the press room window, Hildy is hiding him in a rolltop desk, protecting his scoop from the others. A fine, farcical time is had by all, especially after Hildy's editor, Walter Burns, shows up. In the best performance of a rollicking ensemble, if occasionally halting on opening night, Bob Colonna makes him a no-nonsense, fast-talking fast thinker out of a Billy Wilder comedy, scheming to get Hildy back in harness.

Sullivan has always been able to make nervous intensity funny, so his Hildy is a hoot, leaping into action like a retired fire horse at the first alarm clang. He has plenty of helpful company. As Molly Malloy, the Whore With a Heart of Gold, Laura Sorensen gives good self-righteousness. Molly is the disbelieved alibi for railroaded Earl Williams (Jonathan Jacobs), who protests, affronted, that he's not a Communist, he's an anarchist. Nudging stereotypes closer to archetypes, Janine Weisman is perfectly horrid (as in perfectly wonderful) as the impatiently shrieking shrew whom Johnson adores, and as her mother, Joan Batting trains her well.

Others crucial to our enjoyment include Luis Astudillo as white-suited gangster Diamond Louis, jauntily Hispanic; John Michael Richardson as Bensinger, the effete reporter whose desk is commandeered; Joe Henderson as an eager guard and penology theorist; and Andrew Stigler as a hapless sheriff.

One matter that might disturb audiences is that the N-word is used by the reporters at one point. Apart from the cold excuse of period accuracy, I think the inclusion works because at no point do we think these amusing guys aren't jerks. One of them, in fact, twice expresses the era's hostility toward women, and actor Tom Bentley doesn't mask the brief pathological anger. Nice contrast in a comedy.

Originally, 2nd Story was going to stage Death of a Salesmen this season, but artistic director Shea figured that a play about a guy who kills himself because he loses his job wasn't such a good idea nowadays. As far as topicality goes, the replacement was perfect, what with the Chicago setting and hyper-venal Mayor Blagojevich in the news. But when it comes to the eye-rolling faux journalism of contemporary pop reporters, that's a timeless complaint that will keep The Front Page in production for as long as such nonsense remains laughable.

There’s nothing like a tender, touching, heartfelt drama to make you want to sit back and reflect on the finer aspects of life and love; and The Front Page is nothing like a heartfelt drama. Rather Ben Hecht’s and Charles MacArthur’s fantastic farce is a hilarious romp through the seedy side of the newspaper business and Chicago political shenanigans with a spicy little love story thrown into the mix. The script is about as politically correct as a Marxist at a DAR convention and twice as funny. The power of politics meets the power of the press in this revealing flip side of The Front Page in which every semblance of American idealism is unmercifully shattered under the weight of shady statesmen and potent publishers. But what a way to go!

2nd Story’s ensemble cast has never been in better form under Ed Shea’s direction; amusing one-liners come out at you with machine-gun rapidity and precision as a cadre of reporters played by 2nd Story regulars awaits the execution of copkiller Earl Williams (Jonathan Jacobs). The reporters are killing time in digs designed by Trevor Elliot to replicate the seedy pressroom of a county courthouse, and the set is nothing short of spectacular as are the costumes designed by Erin Meghan Donnelly. You can almost smell the cigar smoke and feel the sweat-soaked undershirts as these gritty predecessors of today’s pretty-boy newsreaders plied the trade as hardnosed court reporters. Every one of them is digging for the big scoop, but only one of them is destined to get it.

“Examiner” reporter Hildy Johnson (Jim Sullivan) is about to score the biggest story of his life on the biggest night of his life. He’s getting out of the newspaper racket to marry the comely Peggy Grant (Janine Weisman) and take a cushy job in New York. Weisman and Sullivan along with Mrs. Grant (Joan Batting) have a comedic chemistry to rival that of Cary Grant and Irene Dunne; the three provide one of the most uproarious scenes in a play that is one long extended laugh. Luis Astudillo as Diamond Louis, a mobster associated with the “Examiner,” and hypochondriac “Tribune” reporter John Michael Richardson keep the lightingquick pace moving with their comedic performances.

On his way out of town, Hildy tells his publisher Walter Burns (Bob Colonna) he’s quitting and heads for the door just when now escaped cop-killer Earl Williams climbs in the window. Unable to pass up one last scoop, Hildy hides Williams and calls Burns to tell him he has the story of a lifetime; he also leaves his fiancé and mother-in-law to be waiting in a taxi.

Now things get complicated.

Molly Malloy (Laura Sorensen), Earl’s only friend and maybe love shows up and briefly ignites a doomed romance. Burns storms in to get the exclusive story of Earl’s escape for his paper and to keep Hildy from leaving. Peggy and Mrs. Grant show up separately as well. They are followed by the Mayor (Tom Roberts) and Sheriff Hartman (Andrew Stigler) and all the other reporters. The whole thing is a tangled web of witty writing that can only be untangled by even more of the same.

I dare not give the story away here but suffice to say, the playwrights use the same wit that got them into a conundrum of plot complications to get themselves out. The writing is brilliant and the acting in this little American classic is no less so. Make a mad dash to Warren for an evening or Sunday afternoon of madcap entertainment guaranteed to chase your blues away ― for a while anyway.

2nd Story Theatre’s production of Ben Hecht and Charles MacArthur’s 1920 screwball comedy, The Front Page, is a ferociously entertaining portrayal of tabloid journalism and the morally compromising roles of both the press and politics amid the corruption of Chicago during the organized crime era of Al Capone and Prohibition.

At the center of this simple yet fast-paced spectacle is veteran reporter, Hildy Johnson (Jim Sullivan), a mainstay at the publication, The Examiner, who decides to trade in his notebook for an ad exec’s position on Madison Avenue, where he hopes and dreams of living as a family man. As luck would have it, the story of his life literally creeps through the window in the form of escaped convict, Earl Williams (Jonathan Jacobs), who is scheduled to be hanged the next morning for killing a crooked cop.

Rest assured The Front Page is not just about Hildy’s quest for normalcy. More than twenty characters saunter back and forth on the stage, each with his―or her―own take on the course of events. Both Sheriff Hartman (Andy Stigler) and The Mayor (Tom Roberts) are determined to see Earl hang, because his victim was black and therefore the execution will secure that community’s vote in the forthcoming election. The Examiner editor, Walter Burns (Bob Colonna), already sore about losing his star player, uses Earl to keep Hildy from catching his train to New York, while his fiancée, Peggy (Janine Weisman), and future mother-in-law (Joan Batting) wait angrily and impatiently.

The set, designed by Trevor Elliot, perfectly conveys a grungy newsroom, complete with a pack of card-playing stringers who berate women, each other, and shrug off any story opportunity that isn’t already second nature to the Chicago city streets.

Characters often talk over each other with mostly politically incorrect conversation, yet the jostled delivery of the dialogue and resulting noise is quintessential old school, classic comedy. Hats off to Director Ed Shea and his cast for making it look so easy.

Jim Sullivan is charming as Hildy and there isn’t a bad performance in the bunch, with honorable mentions belonging to John Michael Richardson, never better as germaphobe, Bensinger; Luis Astudillo as the flamboyant, reformed mobster, Diamond Louis; and Bob Colonna as Burns, the editor without a conscience who wickedly and fittingly waltzes off the stage.

2nd Story’s The Front Page is a headline worthy production that would make its former newsmen authors, Hecht and MacArthur, especially proud.

Yes Virginia, there was a time when a city would have more than one newspaper; when reporters would fight to get the story in print first and the volume in the newsroom was only slightly less than at a football game.

Today the medium is different, but the fight to be first is still there and newsrooms today tend to be only slightly noisier than libraries. And we look at the past through rose-colored glasses and glorify it.

2nd Story Theatre has donned those glasses and returned to the old days with The Front Page, which was written in 1928 by two former reporters―Ben Hecht and Charles MacArthur―who based the characters on people they knew. The production races along as if we are facing a deadline as the reporters at Chicago’s Criminal Court wait for an execution and are upset that the governor has refused to move it up a couple of hours so they can make the first edition.

They include Hildy Johnson, who is getting out of the game and heading to New York for a life of marriage and respectability. Then the chance to break the biggest story he ever hand practically lands in his lap. Talk about temptation!

Trevor Elliot has come up with a properly cluttered court newsroom and the reporters are properly wolflike as they circle their prey waiting to pounce. (Think photographers today mobbing a celebrity.)

Women, there are a few, are treated as plot points. This is a man’s world―a very fast-paced man’s world, and a foul-mouthed one, at least by 1928 standards, including a word used then but seldom heard today. Out of this madness only a few are allowed to come across as three-dimensional.

Hildy Johnson, Jim Sullivan, almost seems too nice for the location. The drive is there, but not necessarily strong enough to beat the others, even though every one of them look up to him a the master. Oh, he will lie as much as the others would to protect his story, but there’s a gentleness there. In other words he’s likeable.

John Michael Richardson has fun with Bensinger, a man who keeps his desk separate from the others to avoid germs. Want to get him upset―touch his desk.

And there’s Bob Colonna, the owner of the paper Hildy works for. He is a man who’s ruthless but fun. When he’s conning you, you enjoy it as much as he does. There’s even a brief touch of vaudeville when he gets his hands on a cane. Colonna’s Walter Burns is someone who loves his job and knows that so does Hildy.

The Front Page reaches farce speed (only slightly slower than warp speed) as it adds an escaped killer to the mix and keeps the reporters racing in and out as they follow new leads.

All this is fun. The pace matches the subject, although a slight slowdown to show the depth of the relationship between Hildy and his fiancée (Janine Weisman) would have given her some breathing room.

The Front Page is a hymn to the past well sung.

Back in 1928, two former reporters wrote a play about Chicago politics and the newspaper business and called it The Front Page. The play was a comedy; the politics were corrupt.

Too bad Ben Hecht and Charles MacArthur aren’t still around, because Chicago Mayor Rod Blagojevich would give them excellent material. Only this time the cast would be a lot smaller; there just aren’t as many newspapers in Chicago as were portrayed in the play.

Laughter, however, not lamentations about losses in print journalism, is the point of the play, now at 2nd Story Theatre, and there is plenty of it, both from the dialogue, which is often very politically incorrect, and from the energy of the cast. It’s not until the end that you stop to realize how good the production looks, too.

Set in the 1920s, the story centers on veteran reporter Hildy Johnson who has had it with the weird hours and indigestion-inducing nature of his job. He’s going to get married, move to New York and take a cushy desk job in public relations at his new wife’s uncle’s business.

He’s spending his last night in the press room at the Chicago Criminal Courts building where a horde of reporters are waiting for the big story: the hanging of a man convicted of killing a cop. To pass the time, the reporters are playing poker and talking―all at once.

The dialogue overlaps and there is a cacophony of voices, ringing telephones, insults and the occasional effort by a one reporter to actually find a story. Director Ed Shea said he felt more like a conductor than a director, making sure that from all that sound the audience still would hear the lines that advance the story.

It works. You’re not even aware of it, but at the same time you’re laughing at the wisecracks, you do hear the important stuff.

Hildy is determined to get out before the story breaks, but his plans go awry when the convict escapes and lands right in his hands. What’s a man with ink in his blood supposed to do? Call his publisher, of course, to tell him about the scoop and then hide the criminal―and the story―from the rest of the newshounds by stuffing him into a roll-top desk.

There is a sort of I Love Lucy quality to the way events unfold, with one hair-brained choice necessitating two more to make up for it. While the reporters are literally chasing the story, the politicians are trying to manipulate it, particularly the sheriff and an opportunistic mayor who had planned to capitalize on the hanging by campaigning on a law-and-order ticket.

Add a feisty hooker, the yellow-journalism publisher, a hood, a cleaning lady, Hildy’s demanding fiancée, her suspicious mother, and the convict himself, and you’ve got the makings of mayhem.

But it’s organized mayhem, and it’s very funny. OK, there are vulgarities, racist comments, and women get almost no respect, but this play was written more than 80 years ago when our sensibilities were different, and none of it is mean spirited.

There are fabulous performances from big roles to small, from Bob Colonna’s unethically matter-of-fact Walter Burns, the publisher, to John Michael Richardson’s hysterical turn as Bensinger, the one tidy reporter who hates it when the others touch his things or use his telephone. Jim Sullivan as Hildy is convincingly conflicted about getting sucked back into the Big Story, but just as convincing in loving every minute of it.

Lauren Sorensen is a standout as the spunky Mollie Malloy, the hooker; Tom Roberts is wonderfully despicable as The Mayor; and Andrew Stigler makes his ambitious but obtuse Sheriff Hartman funny because he plays him so seriously.

Playwrights Hecht and MacArthur contrived some clever situations where things seemingly insignificant turn out very significant later on. I also got a kick out of their insider observations, like the reporters’ collectively blasé response to a fire alarm, or their poking fun at the one fastidious guy among them.

Shea and the 2nd Story set, lighting and costume designers came up with visual images, moreover, that stick with you. The paper-littered press room made me feel right at home, and the way the reporters are arranged for their poker game in the opening scene looks like something Norman Rockwell would have wanted to paint. Erin Meghan Donnelly’s costumes are interesting in their multiple, rich shades of brown, from the men’s pinstriped slacks to fiancée Peggy Grant’s fur stole.

The Front Page was a hit in Chicago, where theater-goers recognized a lot of the characters, and in 1928 on Broadway. It was made into a movie in 1931 with Pat O’Brien and in 1974 with Jack Lemmon and Walter Matthau. It also was the basis for the 1940 film His Girl Friday with Cary Grant and Rosalind Russell.

Some 80 years later, Chicago still is struggling with corrupt politics, and Hecht and MacArthur’s play is still funny. Some things might never change, but 2nd Story’s fine production will last only until Feb. 15. Do not miss it.

If someone told you the best use of $25 from your hard-earned salary would be a ticket to The Front Page, at Warren’s Second Story Theatre, would you believe them?

After all, the angel on your right is probably whispering, you wouldn’t enjoy a sexist play from 1928 about a bunch of lousy, dirty newspapermen in Chicago. Anyway, the whole show takes place in the same place―the press room of the criminal courts building in Chicago―and what could be more boring than that? And so what, the movie adapted from the play, His Girl Friday, the 1940 comedy smash directed by Howard Hawks, is one of the best movies ever made, period, with Cary Grant and Rosalind Russell? Put that on your Netflix cue and have another cheap night alone at home.

But no, you can’t do that, dear reader; you must go to the other side of the bay to see The Front Page as soon as possible. Your belly will ache from laughing. Your brain will be happily worn-out from paying close attention, because if you so much as sneeze, taking your eyes from the stage for one second, you’re going to miss some great, funny dialogue.

My companion and I agreed, as we were holding our sides after the show, headed for one of Warren’s fine cheese-and-wine places, that the whole cast was heaven-sent. No matter what these actors do for day jobs, they were obviously destined for their parts. Each had the perfect face, physique, and volubility to become his or her character. And everyone’s feeling for a loud, wild, free-spirited newspaper office was so convincing, it was hard to believe this wasn’t make-believe.

As a few examples: Jim Sullivan has the boyish enthusiasm necessary for the part of Hildy Johnson, the star reporter who always gets the scoop, who’s torn between his love for the excitement of the newspaper biz, which puts him head-to-head with crooked politicians, and his obnoxiously demanding girlfriend, Peggy, played by Janine Weisman, and her equally funny and clueless mother, played by Joan Batting. All the reporters are delightful in their crude, lewd, jokes and gestures, lead by a wonderfully awful Walter Burns, played by Bob Colonna (nicknamed the “baboon” by Hildy.) To my surprise, the just-as-insensitive politicians are also very competent: Fred the mayor, played by Tom Roberts, and Pete “Pinky,” the sheriff, played by Andrew Stigler. Both men demonstrate, in under-stated acting, the fine line between hollow-hearted bureaucrats and sinister henchmen.

This production succeeds in stretching the stereotypes we still hold about the “good old days” of journalism―featuring the pre-feminist, badly-dressed, barely educated, emotionally incapable boy-men―as far as you can go, without straying into caricature. Part of the reason the dark jokes work well is because we know that next door to the free-for-all newsroom, literally, is the gallows, not just where a kooky anarchist, Earl Williams, is about to be executed; but the gallows also stand for the real-life mundane working world, where people don’t take jobs for fun―they keep them to make money. That kind of uninteresting life is the real crime of The Front Page, and the crude reporters’ abhorrence of such a living is the chief reason they could come across as heroic, even lovable.

When Second Story Theatre has a cast this quick on its feet, who can take careful direction from the estimable Ed Shea, it’s as good as the best theater anywhere. Honestly, we’ve all walked out of an OK community theater production and said, “The show was pretty good, but it is just Rhode Island after all, so what can you expect?” Not this time. I dare any theater to beat this production in timing, casting and sense of humor.

Written in 1928 by Ben Hecht and Charles MacArthur, The Front Page take place in the man's domain of the press room in the Chicago Criminal Courts Building, which looks out over the gallows at the Cook County Jail. It is based on the authors' own experience.

The original play has been adapted many times, most successfully I believe, as the 1940 film His Girl Friday, starring Rosalind Russell.

The play also seems to share at least some heritage with Chicago, a 1926 play by reporter Maurine Dallas Watkins which is based on crimes which she reported. That play was adapted into the smash musical of the same name.

The first film adaptation of The Front Page, in 1929, was made just two years after the first "talkie" and it shows. 2nd Story's production, with its rapid-fire dialogue and light comedy owes much to the style of the film His Girl Friday. Director Ed Shea stays true the original premise, while updating slightly, the feel of the play. Trevor Elliot's stage design is a terrific meshing of form and function. The set feels like an old newspaper room, sans the unfiltered cigarettes and butts and ashtrays.

Shea casts Hildy Johnson, the main character, against type. It is hard to imagine this Hildy as a hardened newspaper man with a steel-trap mind and rumpled, drunk, and smelly. Jim Sullivan's Hildy is warm, extroverted and open. Though the casting is disconcerting at first, Sullivan give a fine performance, making us believe that his is Hildy.

Hildy is celebrating his last day as a reporter. He has told his boss, publisher Walter Burns (Bob Colonna) to go to hell and is on his way to New York City to make a home with his fiancé Peggy Grant and his soon-to-be mother-in-law, Mrs. Grant (Joan Batting).

In 1920's Chicago, hangings were more or less regular, public events and had been since 1840. The boys in the press room are bored, waiting and hoping for a scoop on the impending hanging of convicted cop-killer Earl Williams (Jonathan Jacobs). They have lobbied, unsuccessfully, to get the hanging moved up a couple hours so they can make their publishing deadline and go home. Hildy has stopped into the press room to collect his things on his way to the train station.

The crooked mayor (Tom Roberts) and Sheriff (Andrew Stigler) expect the publicity from the execution to help them keep their jobs in an upcoming election. Hildy soon gets caught up in the biggest story of his career when Earl Williams escapes and Hildy inadvertently "captures" him. The wedding, along with his fiancé and mother-in-law will have to wait.

The cast of 20, weaves in, out, over and around each other, both physically and verbally. 2nd Story regulars F. William Oakes, Walter Cotter, Vince Petronio and John Michael Richardson have a long working history together, just like the newspapermen in the play. The familiarity and interplay between them is a perfect example of the advantages of an acting company.

The female characters are period-appropriate stereotypes. Paula Faber is divine as Mrs. Schlosser, the shrewish wife of one of the journalists. As Peggy, Janine Weisman is the virtuous and put-upon fiancé, chaperoned though life by her meddling mother, played by Joan Batting. Laura Sorensen plays Mollie Malloy, the condemned man's girlfriend. Mollie is, of course, a streetwalker with a heart of gold. Pam Faulkner has a the small role of Jennie, the cleaning lady. Each of these actresses turn in fine performances.

Bob Colonna is, as always, riveting as publisher Walter Burns. Tom Roberts looks and acts appropriately Mayoral, authoritative and slimey. Roberts, along with Joanne Fayan, would each have made a terrific Hildy.

More important than the individual performance is the performance of the entire ensemble. This is a cast without a weak link, and the production is nearly flawless. The comedy is light, verbal and mildly intellectual.

Artistic Director Ed Shea had originally planned to present Death of A Salesman during this time-slot in the season. He decided to shelve that idea in deference to the current financial climate and the related steady stream of familial murder/suicides that are being reported. Stories about corrupt politicians (in Chicago or elsewhere) are never out of style, but have rarely been more timely.

Ed Shea and his 2nd Story Theatre were planning on staging Death of a Salesman this month but opted instead for the The Front Page, Ben Hecht and Charles MacArthur’s raucous 1928 comedy about a bunch of court-room reporters on the trail of an escaped convict.

Shea said with the worsening economy, now is not the time to put on Salesman, a play about a man who commits suicide because he loses his job.

And that’s too bad, because this Arthur Miller classic would have been an encore presentation of one of 2nd Story’s best productions ever. Bob Colonna, who played Willy Loman before and was set to do it again, pretty much owns the role. Perhaps, too, Salesman would have packed more punch when played out against a real-life backdrop of lay-offs, down-sizing and economic uncertainty. Some of the best theater deals with difficult topics.

After all, Pawtucket’s Gamm Theatre went ahead with Awake and Sing!, Clifford Odets’ serio-comic look at a Jewish family from the Bronx struggling to survive the dark days of the Great Depression. That’s a fine show made all the more powerful by the parallels to our own troubled times. Salesman, of course, is also among the handful of the greatest 20th-century American dramas, a masterwork that makes the dated, somewhat aimless shenanigans in The Front Page seem a little tired.

On the other hand, I guess I can understand director Shea’s decision to go with a couple of hours of inane quips at a time when people might be looking for a little relief from their troubles. But did he have to come up with such an over-the-top take on the show?

In the hands of 2nd Story Theatre, The Front Page has been turned into a scream-fest with no letup, a fast-paced farce that’s so frantic that it becomes almost painful to sit through. The cast spent the afternoon dashing through doorways and shouting their lines at fellow actors at the top of their lungs. At one point, near the end of the show, the whole room erupted in yelling, as one of the characters started blowing a shrill police whistle. It was at that point that I kind of turned off to the whole free-for-all that is this production. It was as though I was stuck in a room with heavy metal on a stereo cranked to the max. There was no place to hide, no relief.

It should be said though that Hecht and MacArthur, two former newspapermen, know of what they speak. The show is full of amusing observations about the way newspapers used to do business. You remember newspapers, right?

Bob Colonna pops up in the show as pushy Walter Burns, the managing editor of one of Chicago’s top papers and who would go to any lengths to get a scoop. He’s on the phone, trying to clear space in the paper for a breaking story.

“No,” he says, “leave the rooster story alone. That’s human interest.”

This group of rival reporters who hang out in the court press room seem like a bunch of no-accounts. It’s a highly romanticized look at newspapers of old, when newsmen packed flasks and talked like thugs from a 1930s detective flick. These are writers who can hardly negotiate the English language, who toss around words like “ain’t.” There are even a couple of racial slurs in the script, which couldn’t have been all that pleasant for the black woman and child in the audience at Sunday’s opening.

The play has the thinnest of plots. Hildy Johnson, a hard-drinking reporter’s reporter, has announced he is getting married and taking a job in advertising. He is about to leave Chicago for New York when a notorious criminal who is about to be hanged makes a jailbreak, and Hildy, old fire horse that he is, puts his plans on hold and jumps in to cover the story.

It’s not the plot that carries the show, though, but the rapid-fire dialogue, which sometimes hits the mark and sometimes just sits there begging for a laugh. Sometimes lines are layered, with words overlapping, as reporters fight to phone in their stories.

But even with more tempered direction, this is a play that still is on the thin side.

Jim Sullivan makes a somewhat goofy Hildy Johnson, an amusing take on the part that produced more than a few laughs. A newsman, said Hildy, is a cross between a “bootlegger and a whore.”

John Michael Richardson, a 2nd Story veteran, is a hoot as Bensinger, the germ-phobe reporter who doesn’t like people messing with his desk. It’s just when he starts talking like Bogie that it seems a little strange for a prissy neat-freak.

Colonna hits the mark as imperious editor Burns.

Trevor Elliot has put together a detailed and fairly elaborate set by 2nd Story standards, a theater that after all announced not long ago that is was doing without sets to save money and place more focus on the playwright’s words.

Vintage phones litter old oak desks that are set in a grimy press office with pieces of crumpled-up paper tossed on the floor.