"Don't Dress for Dinner" at American Airlines Theater Can I blame Mark Rylance? For what, you are wondering. For "Don't Dress for Dinner," a revival of a wheezy French sex farce by Marc Camoletti that opened on Broadway on Thursday night at the American Airlines Theater. You see, if it were not for the alchemical magic of Mr. Rylance's Tony-winning performance in Mr. Camoletti's "Boeing-Boeing," revived to popular acclaim on Broadway and in the West End a couple of years ago, I doubt I would have had to endure the creaking mechanics of "Don't Dress for Dinner." Instead of feeling freshly whipped up from a classic recipe - as "Boeing-Boeing" did, against all odds - this Roundabout Theater Company production has the stale flavor of an old TV dinner defrosted and microwaved. Set in a comfortable country home outside Paris in 1960, when mere naughtiness was still titillating, the plot turns on a weekend of philandering planned by Bernard (Adam James), a British expat who is just about ready to pop the cork on a bottle of bubbly to welcome his mistress, Suzanne (Jennifer Tilly), when things begin to go turbulently awry. Bernard's wife, Jacqueline (Patricia Kalember), was to be packed off for a visit to her mother. But when she discovers that Bernard's friend Robert (Ben Daniels) has unexpectedly turned up - returning from Kuala Lumpur, as English businessmen in Paris in 1960 were presumably always doing - Jacqueline pretends her mother has the flu. She and Robert have been carrying on their own secret affair, and she is looking forward to a reunion. There's more of course. Since Suzanne's imminent arrival must somehow be explained, Bernard presses Robert to pretend that she is his mistress - a ruse Robert is most reluctant to agree to, for fear of alienating Jacqueline's affections. But play along he must, and all might still be well were it not for the untimely arrival of the cook sent by a catering agency, Suzette (Spencer Kayden), whom Robert mistakes for Suzanne, and who is baffled at the odd request to pretend to be his mistress. Ooh la la! "Don't Dress for Dinner" is arguably a better-constructed farce than "Boeing-Boeing," but this show, directed by John Tillinger, lacks crucial elements that made the earlier revival, directed by Matthew Warchus, so popular: the particular genius of Mr. Rylance, whose clowning was gently infused with real pathos, as well as stylish designs and the "Mad Men"-era kitsch factor provided by the presence of sex-kitten stewardesses. John Lee Beatty's blandly upscale living-room set for "Don't Dress for Dinner" doesn't help squelch the play's stodginess factor. Subtlety is not a requirement - or even an asset - when playing farce, and the cast of "Don't Dress for Dinner" certainly makes no attempt to underplay. As the increasingly addled Bernard, in a permanent state of damage control, Mr. James leaps and scurries about the stage, arms gyrating in mad, semaphoric maneuvers that could be used to guide airplanes to their gates. Mr. Daniels, seen in the Roundabout's revival of "Les Liaisons Dangereuses" a few seasons back, contorts himself into various suggestive poses with impressive athleticism and exudes an air of mortal terror as he tries to keep up with Bernard's convoluted machinations. Ms. Kalember is comparatively restrained as Jacqueline, simmering with gentle outrage at the thought that her lover has had the audacity to bring another mistress to her home. As the voluptuous Suzanne, Ms. Tilly, gaudily and somewhat gauchely costumed (by William Ivey Long), brays and pouts in dismay when Bernard insists that since Suzette is pretending to be Robert's mistress, Suzanne must in turn pretend to be the cook. But the most surefire role is Ms. Kayden's as the wily Suzette, who coolly demands a few more hundred francs every time she is asked to undertake some preposterous new role in the confused shenanigans. Employing a pinched, nasal French accent of stage stereotype, Mr. Kayden is very funny in her sniffing acceptance of the absurd behavior of her employers. In one of the evening's best bits of physical comedy the maid's uniform Suzette has donned for dinner - it's the only other outfit she brought - is instantly transformed by Robert and Bernard into a chic cocktail dress, inspiring Suzette to play the grand lady as she becomes increasingly looped on liquor. The verbal wit in the English adaptation by Robin Hawdon is rather low. There's a cheesy joke playing on the words "happiness" and "penis" for example. But most of the humor derives from the bawdy grappling among the various romantic partners and the slinky manner in which Suzette crisply outfoxes her betters. The farce lovers in the audience seemed to greet each new absurd convolution in the story with the desired guffaws, but for me the intensive labor involved rarely seemed to pay off in moments of inspired lunacy. Allergies are mysterious things. They come from nowhere, and then sometimes they go. I'm not exactly sure when it developed, but I've come to realize I have a pretty serious allergy to farce. Rare exceptions: Michael Frayn's "Noises Off" and this season's delectable "One Man, Two Guvnors." Emerging from "Don't Dress for Dinner" after the last clandestine smooch had been snatched and the last bedroom door slammed, I found myself itchy with irritation, checking my skin for hives. Don't Dress for Dinner By Marc Camoletti; adapted by Robin Hawdon; directed by John Tillinger; sets by John Lee Beatty; costumes by William Ivey Long; lighting by Ken Billington; sound by David Van Tieghem; hair and wig design by Paul Huntley; fight director, Thomas Schall; production stage manager, Barclay Stiff; production manager, Aurora Productions; general manager, Denise Cooper; associate managing director, Greg Backstrom; associate artistic director, Scott Ellis. Presented by the Roundabout Theater Company, Todd Haimes, artistic director; Harold Wolpert, managing director; Julia C. Levy, executive director, in association with Damian Arnold. At the American Airlines Theater, 227 West 42nd Street, Manhattan; (212) 719-1300, roundabouttheatre.org. Through June 17. Running time: 2 hours 15 minutes. WITH: Ben Daniels (Robert), Adam James (Bernard), Patricia Kalember (Jacqueline), Jennifer Tilly (Suzanne), Spencer Kayden (Suzette) and David Aron Damane (George).