Anyone who has ever had anything to do with an amateur theatrical production should make a point to see the ridiculously funny production of "Play On" at the Art-Rise Studio Theater in South San Francisco.

Playwright Rick Abbot has crafted a nifty piece of comedy in this tale of a theater group investigating ?ting on an original murder mystery.

Don't look for hidden meanings or deep character development in "Play On." It's all intended for fun, and it's fun from the moment the lights shift from the "real" stage to the "play" stage.

This is one of those delightful moments when it's possible to match art imitating life imitating art.

The real life community theater of Art-Rise is to be commended for tackling a project that could easily become a bit to close to home.

After all, if the production of "Play On" suffers from the same problems that the play-within-the-play exudes, audiences would not take kindly to it.

But such is not the case with the Art-Rise stalwarts, who spoof community theater with gusto, grace, good humor and near-flawless timing.

"Play On" is a documentary of the rehearsal and production of a ludicrous murder mystery by an amateur theater group.

One of the numerous one-liners thrown dizzily throughout the play can be easily used to sum up the anxiety of live theater. What's the difference between a parachute and a play? Well, when a parachute opens, you know you're safe.

"Play On" opened Friday, but Art Rise doesn't have to worry about a hard landing.

Director Bernadette Fife has developed the right contrast with her cast. The actors play normal people who are all terrible actors.

This contrast allows for some comic moments sure to be cherished by anyone who has ever waited for a cue, frozen on stage or impatiently cursed a prima donna.

Fife has also designed a evolving set for her players to romp in. It's fun to watch for the changes as the "play" nears its final production.

Brian Anderson is the befuddled director Gerry, eager to please his audience but desperately trying to keep his cast from leaving for coffee.

Helping him are Maggie Pierson's Aggie, the mother of all stage managers, and Kathleen Kelly as Louise, a tried-and-true techie with combat boots and tools hanging around her waist.

On stage are the thespians, a wacky band of players. Bill Pickering and Candi Pickering play the married couple of Henry and Polly Benish. Polly is the frightening answer to all directors' nightmares as she bosses her husband and everyone else around. She is also hysterically funny.

As Smitty, Jennifer Snyder is a fine lampoon of the inexperienced but eager young actress. Bill Clyde, looking a bit like Dabney Coleman, has a cynical sense of humor that sharpens up the evening.

Gordon Holmes is a clown, in the best sense of the word, as Billy. Seemingly ready to burst apart with tension, Holmes careens through the play, neck muscles bulging, eyes popping and intensity climbing. His enthusiasm for a love scene rehearsal (and its eventual climax) is the stuff of community theater legends.

The object of his dramatic affection (and unbridled backstage lust) is Violet Imbry, played by Kimberly Risk with great good cheer. This is another ditzy blonde joke character, but Risk takes her beyond the caricature into some fine comic acting.

Amanda Carrett plays the playwright Phyllis Montague, who insists on rewriting scenes (and including herself as a pest) until opening night.

"Play On" is at times a screamer. Perhaps it will hold more truth for people who have been involved in theater, but for anyone looking for a good, simple laugh, this is the show to see.