Not Rotten at All!

Everything about Dirty Rotten Scoundrels screams “hit.” The New York Times review aside (more and more, the paper of record seems to be out of touch), there is really no doubt about the appeal of this vastly entertaining production. Simply put, here is a musical comedy that hits on all cylinders. Half a dozen potential Tony nominees stock the leads and second leads, not to mention production values that are as stunning as they are hilarious. One can only hope that the rest of this season’s new offerings will be as equally impressive. What a spring that would be!

Let’s get one quibble out of the way: John Lithgow is a wonderful actor with presence to spare, but why is he a musical theater star? He sings passably well, but wouldn’t you rather see and hear a really suave, sexy performer with a great voice in the role of Lawrence Jameson, the sophisticated con man pretending to be “The Prince” (among other cons)? Wouldn’t Kevin Kline have been perfection? Be that as it may, Lithgow will undoubtedly get a Tony nomination because he gives a solid performance in a wonderfully written role. Pairing up with him is Norbert Leo Butz, who turns comic vulgarity into gold; he plays the low-class con man Freddy Benson with exuberance and great joy. Rounding out the leads is Sherie Rene Scott, who may find herself catapulted into the Broadway big league with her performance here. She’s sweet, sexy, funny — and she can belt!

Jeffrey Lane’s book and David Yazbek’s songs cannot be praised highly enough. Lane had the advantage of working from excellent source material, but his version of the tale is consistently funny, irreverent, and deliciously self-aware. Yazbek’s music is serviceable, but his lyrics — particularly the many nutty comedy numbers, such as “What Was A Woman to Do?” and “Love Is My Legs” — take breathtaking risks that pay off.

One of the very special pleasures of Dirty Rotten Scoundrels is its secondary plot; this is old-school storytelling and it’s greatly appreciated here because it’s so well done. A hilarious romance is developed between Jameson’s French assistant (Gregory Jbara) and one of Jameson’s earlier conquests (Joanna Gleason). Is it integral to the main plot? No, but these characters have some of the best material in the show. If their subplot had been excised, DRS would have lost much of its brilliance.

A large and attractive cast supports the leads, and they in turn are supported by David Rockwell’s glittering sets, Gregg Barnes’s spectacular costumes (wait till you see Gleason in a camouflage glitter gown), Jerry Mitchell’s zesty choreography, and Jack O’Brien’s spot-on direction.

********************

Going for the Jugular

If vaudeville weren’t already dead, Lazer Vaudeville would kill it. The word “lame” does not adequately describe this attempt to turn juggling into theater. Talk about dropping the ball! You will see — and we have seen — more exciting juggling acts at a Renaissance Fair than in this show at the John Houseman. You can add all the laser technology in the world to brighten and colorize the proceedings, but boring is boring — and this comes from two critics who very much enjoy juggling. (One of us actually spent much of his junior year of college learning how to juggle instead of going to classes.)

A major flaw of the show is its lack of patter. Lazer Vaudeville relies on light shows and canned music to suggest a sort of juggling fantasia, but not even a heavy intake of recreational drugs would make all of this engaging. Some of the routines are ponderous and most of them lack any sort of climax. Only very young children are likely to enjoy the proceedings — but, having said that, we should add that there is much better entertainment for kids to be found all over town.

The three stars of this sputtering enterprise are Carter Brown (also credited as the director), Cindy Marvell (credited as choreographer, but we would ask, what choreography?), and Nicholas Flair. (Marvell and Flair? Are these names for real?) The pretty but ineffectual laser design is by Cory Simpson. Should you somehow get roped into seeing this show, the one saving grace is that it’s mercifully short — less than 90 minutes, with no intermission. There is a God!

********************

Tartaglia: As Adorable as a Puppet

We recently caught up with John Tartaglia, late of Avenue Q, in his cabaret act at Joe’s Pub. There were no puppets but there were lots of backup singers. Most importantly, there was the revelation of a genuine musical comedy talent in this smartly conceived show.

Like a makeup artist, Tartaglia covers up his weaknesses and highlights his strengths. For instance, he doesn’t have a great voice, but he can act a lyric and make you feel it. He’s good-looking but not leading man material, so he makes up for it with plenty of charm — and, in his eagerness to please, he makes sure that he has plenty of help from a coterie of talented friends. Our only complaint on that score was the arrogant way in which he treated Lucas Steele, a talented singer/actor whom he repeatedly demeaned by calling him “stool boy.” (This was obviously intended to be funny, but it came off as mean.)

Tartaglia’s inventive sense of fun could be found in his patter as well as in his singing; he’s a natural, vital entertainer. There’s definitely something adorable about John Tartaglia, and this act was a terrific showcase for his abundant appeal.

********************

[To contact the Siegels directly, e-mail them at siegels@theatermania.com.]