A Noise Within’s production of Eugene Ionesco’s “The Chairs” draws much of its humor from the costume design Angela Balogh Calin and the set and props (scenic artist Alexandra Dunn). Watching this 90-minute play (without intermission) starring Geoff Elliott and Deborah Strang, I felt the clock ticking–not from boredom, but for the things I should be doing.

The play takes place after the destruction of Paris, as the old man (Elliott) prepares to have his great philosophical concept delivered by a hired orator before various guests. The guests are invisible, but the old man and his wife, the old woman (Strang) scramble to greet their guests–not all of whom behave, they flirt with two particular guests and eventually are honored with an aristocratic presence. The chairs are pulled out and they are tragically ragged and hysterically inappropriate in some cases.

The orator does arrive (Andy Stokan) but the old man and the old woman have already left this world–committing suicide for things can’t get better than this.

Elliott wears a faded ill-fitting suit that might have been worn for a formal occasion many years ago, but he matches that with old boots, a knit cap under and more formal hat.

The old woman wears red opera gloves, a faded purple head scarf, a leopard-pattern coat, a green check house dress frock over a pink lace dress. She might have been chic at one time, in one of those dresses but none of them go with those red gloves.

Julia Rodriguez-Elliott directs this as a tragi-comedy and perhaps, with age the meaning of this play has changed for me.

This absurdist farce debuted in 1952 and the important moment is one like a ballroom after the dance as ended–sadly empty. Think of post-World War II Paris entering into the Cold War.

The old man repeatedly mentions how much he could have achieved, if only and his “if onlys” begin to pile up.  Aren’t your “if onlys” continuing to collect dust in your brain?

“The Chairs” continues until 21 May 2011 at A Noise Within playing in repertory with “The Comedy of Errors” and “The Eccentricities of a Nightingale.” 234 S. Brand Blvd., Glendale, CA. (818) 240-0910 x1.