Myers plays the main character, Sheridan Whiteside, a famed 1930s radio-show host and lecturer, with a charismatic dose of sharp-tongued gruffness. He's impish, leering, conniving and -- very occasionally -- exhibits a modicum of caring for his fellow human beings. The idea in the show is that Whiteside is midway through a forced stay at the home of a Ohio family that was merely supposed to be a dinner host until he slipped on the sidewalk and was confined to a wheelchair.

Carefully ensconced in his luxurious burgundy dressing gown (ravishing period costumes by Ginger Lewis-Reed), which resembles something that King Edward would have trooped out in to pick up the morning paper, Sheridan is planted for most of the play in a wheelchair. He surveys the upscale Midwestern living room (set by David Pierce, lights by Andrea Henrickson) with some measure of disdain -- this is a long way from Manhattan, after all -- and has a jolly time being the archetypal difficult guest.

Other than the inconvenience of being stuck in the middle of the country, the major complication of the play is the danger that Sheridan will lose his long-suffering secretary, Maggie (Fernanda Kim), when she falls in love with the local newspaper editor (a peppy Landon Weiszbrod). Secondary plot threads include Sheridan's deteriorating relationship with his hosts, his meddling in the lives of their children, his chilly relations with his medical attendants and his welcoming of various celebrities who drop by to say hello.

From Myers' first on-stage line of dialogue, in which he takes a long, nauseated look at the chaos around him and declares "I may vomit," he has a firm and commanding handle on this larger-than-life role. What I like best about his portrayal is how his character behaves in appalling ways, and you're close several times to actively disliking him, but Myers always knows when to stop short of caricature. There's very little sit-com glibness here. That said, the Sheridan-Maggie plot arc doesn't seem as sturdy and crisp as much of the rest of the play, and I felt as if Maggie's characterization needed a sharper focus, if only to balance the intensity of Sheridan's personality. Kim connects nicely with the more melancholy/wishful aspects of her character, but I wanted to see more of an intellectual spark between her and Sheridan.

Standouts in the large cast include a spot-on Gordon Moore as the beleaguered host, Sara Price as the long-suffering nurse and Corey Lung as a thinly disguised Marx brother. Kristen Henson offers a stylish turn as Lorraine Sheldon, the ruthless actress willing to do just about anything for a role.

I'd be remiss if I didn't mention another "big name" -- in Fresno, at least -- who sweeps on in the second act and jazzes things up. Fred Bologna, the longtime Good Company-Roosevelt-New Wrinkles director, appears in his first on-stage role since 1993 as Beverly Carlton, another of the play's thinly disguised celebrities, this one based on Noel Coward. It's a pleasure to watch Bologna and Myers duke it out comically. Their local ties and infrequent on-stage appearances give this local show an added sparkle.