On the surface, the broadly drawn farce “Don’t Dress for Dinner” is like every other merry bedroom romp we have seen, with well-to-do couples trying to have affairs but getting thwarted at every turn by misunderstandings and deception.
But somewhere along the line, you notice a couple things missing: There are no slamming doors and no incessant screaming from the characters. The reason? Like us, they’re too busy being confused.
This is the twist that makes French playwright Marc Camoletti’s comi...
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