Insanity runs in the family:

Are there any sweeter murderers in theatrical history than the kindly Brewster sisters of "Arsenic and Old Lace"? The duo are practically poster children for Emily Post, taking thoughtfulness to new levels; they ask each victim's religion before poisoning him so they'll know which funeral service to follow when they bury him in their basement.

In their eyes, they're doing nothing wrong. The way they see it, they're helping lonely old men experience a peaceful death. It's not murder, it's charity, they explain.

The Naples Players are presenting this cherished classic through Dec. 15.

The opening night performance was a little shaky, though perhaps with time the ensemble will jell better.

Ellen Cooper and Ann Hoover play Abby and Martha Brewster as archetypal old ladies, so sweet they're almost Disney characters. By the end of the play, they've grown on you so much that you'd be sorely tempted to accept a glass of elderberry wine from them, even though you know it's spiked with arsenic, strychnine and "a pinch of cyanide."

Paul Graffy as their nephew, Mortimer, a theater critic, displays urbane charm and more than a hint of conceit. (His role allows the playwright, Joseph Kesselring, to make many wonderful jokes about critics, and even has Mortimer starting to write a review before he's seen the performance.)

It's a juicy role for Graffy, especially when Mortimer discovers a dead body in the windowseat and learns what his aunts have been up to. He completely falls apart on stage, chewing the scenery with zeal.

"Insanity runs in my family," he declares. "It practically gallops." And everyone does seem a little off.

Unfortunately, although the play is supposed to be a madcap, screwball comedy, director Dick Westlake has apparently not only instructed his actors to play their roles over the top…but to mug for the audience. Many times throughout the play, the actors seem to leave the natural flow of action on stage, turn directly towards the audience, and mug, rolling their eyes or otherwise reacting with exaggeration to a line or a situation. It's the equivalent of a TV actor sticking his face into the camera, or someone telling you a joke, then saying, "Get it? Get it? Get it?" and repeating the punchline a number of times.

It seems unnatural and grows annoying as the play continues. In doing this, Westlake seems to not trust the humor inherent in the play or its situations. And so some scenes merely made me smile or chuckle when I was dying to laugh hysterically instead.

At the very end of the play, when Lieutenant Rooney (Joe Loiacono) shows up, he practically steals the show. Not only is Loiacono a good actor, but he seems to be totally within the play and doesn't mug for the audience or "act" directly for them. He also got some of the night's biggest laughs.

Jamie Carmichael plays the Brewster's nephew Teddy, who believes he's President Theodore Roosevelt. Carmichael, himself a big teddy bear of an actor, plays the role with his own internal logic, off in his own world.

Steve Pozgay, as the Brewster's nephew Jonathan and serial murderer, could turn it down a few notches. There was only terror in his role, no humor. He plays his character with such ferocity that he's like a black hole on stage, sucking up all the energy and humor. His loud volume only serves to highlight the others' lighter speaking voices, and his insistence on calling his partner in crime "Doc-TOR," coming down heavy on the second syllable and emphasizing the "r," soon becomes an irritating affectation.

In contrast, Michael Troop, as his sidekick, Dr. Einstein, was great fun to watch. His physical humor is as funny as the way he delivers his lines (often in a don't-hit-me, wheedling kind of whine.)

Also of note: Ira Mogul in a bit-part as one of the lonely old men whom the women almost poison. He's perfect as a sad sack who's all alone in the world.

This production, while funny, could be spectacular if it only had more cohesiveness among its ensemble. Some seem to be acting in different plays or pushing too hard for the laughs.

The twotiered set, by Matt Flynn and Pat Ashton, is perfect. With its busy floral wallpaper and multiple knickknacks - paintings, portraits, doilies - it looks exactly as if two older sisters have lived in it for decades, accumulating more and more "stuff."

While it's not all it could be, this version of "Arsenic and Old Lace" does provide many laughs, despite its unevenness. And for those looking for a perfect antidote to schmaltzy, sugary holiday shows, what better way than to spend a few hours with a couple of sweet, elderly murderers?