Could it be that playwright Michael Hollinger has written himself into a corner in only two scenes? Well, it's a very funny corner and only one of many that the characters find themselves facing in "Red Herring," a farcical spoof of the 1950's fascination with Soviet spies, the atomic bomb, tough-talking investigators, and the bumpy course to true love.

Bill Ogilvie directs a cast of six through a string of simple scenes that form a complex plot. There are so many good moments that it's hard to pick a favorite.

It might be when the female detective finds the Russian fisherman in a shadowy bar, sitting next to a table of empty shot glasses and holding a teaspoon.

"Why are you drinking vodka from a spoon?"

"When I use a fork, it drips on my pants."

It might be when a priest is barraged in the confessional by two sinners who compete for simultaneous absolution. The woman is experiencing "impure thoughts" faster than she can number them. The man is threatening suicide and insisting his sins be heard — most of which involve affairs with married women.

"And I once lied to a priest."

"That would drive you to suicide?"

"No, that was the lie to a priest."

It also doesn't hurt a bit that the cast is uniformly excellent.

David Farmer is consistently milk-toasty as an untypical FBI agent with a huge crush on Brenda Lee Hillebrenner's crusty detective in a wrinkled raincoat and uncomfortable shoes.

Wesley Busser is an impossibly immature physicist paired with Alison Gal as the contradiction-laden daughter of Sen. McCarthy. Victoria Gail-White is the murderous landlady and Gerald Altwies is a winningly winsome Russian — especially when improvising ludicrous sign language.