"Over the River": A family dinner served with a side of laughter

Theater review |

Talking loudly and with the hands. Pressing you to marry. Constant bickering, effusive affection, great cannoli.

Many ethnic clichés of Italian Americana are flaunted in "Over the River and Through the Woods," the comedy by Joe DiPietro now at Taproot Theatre.

But the Italian folk DiPietro depicts in this mirthsome, touching little play are not so extreme as to seem unreal (if a Queens in-law of mine is any measure).

Change lasagne to latkes, or Italian expressions to Cantonese ones, and the comedy could befit other ethnic tribes.

But DiPietro's tale, based on his Hoboken, N.J., relations, doesn't feel generic. And in Scott Nolte's vivacious, detailed staging, it's often laugh-aloud funny.

The familiar setup: Nick Cristano (Kevin Brady), a yuppyish New Yorker, has Sunday dinners in Hoboken with his grandfolks, the maternals — Frank (Bill Johns) and Aida (Kim Morris) — and the paternals, Nunzio (Nolan Palmer) and Emma (Gretchen Douma).

When he plans to move to (whaddyacallit?) Seattle, it's a crisis.

Enter a pretty nurse, Caitlin (Charity Parenzini), whom the elders hope will keep their Nicky local. The hilarious blind date that ensues, with much familial prodding and hovering, and the entire play embraces many sentimental/comedic clichés — but to DiPietro's credit, not all.

DiPietro is a savvy grad of the Neil Simon/Woody Allen school of comic embarrassment, with credits in Herb Gardner ("A Thousand Clowns") whimsy.

Many laughs stem from the zesty unworldliness of the ancestrals — captured in a digressive bout of Trivial Pursuit ("that game you gave us that we don't understand'), the loud polyester attire (courtesy of costumer Mandy Mueller), the love of "family, faith and food."

Brady's Nick understandably adores his grandparents and is annoyed by them. And amid the great one-liners, there's the profound paradox of the immigrant experience: give kids a better life than you had, and they'll likely break your heart by moving far away.

The Taproot cast keeps the laughs flowing and friction crackling, with Douma particularly adept at showing us what Tony Soprano's mother might have been like, if she'd been more likable.

Misha Berson: mberson@seattletimes.com