Saturday, August 7, 2010
The title stinks.
But everything else about the Candy Project’s production of the musical “[title of show]” is can’t-miss theater, especially for hard-core fans of musicals.
This micro-budget, small-cast show has more references to both megahit and obscure Broadway musicals and the people who create them than any other show I’ve ever seen.
It helps if you’re in the know about all things musical, but “[title of show]” was cleverly constructed to work for just about anybody who likes good singing and comedy.
The young, appealing cast of four blends beautifully in some tight vocal harmonies.
The script, though profane at times, is very funny.
And though all of the cast — including keyboardist Zachary Peterson, who delivers a few one-liners — is great, Bill Grennan had audience members repeatedly doubled over, howling all night at a Thursday preview with his expressive face, physical schtick and line readings that created laughs out of thin air. He’s the standout in a really talented cast.
Grennan’s mischievous, sardonic sensibilities are simply perfect for the role of Hunter, who reluctantly signs on when his partner, Jeff (David Ebke), suggests they enter a New York festival for new musicals, even though the entry deadline is just three weeks away.
The show’s nondescript title comes from the festival’s entry form. Since Jeff and Hunter can’t think of a title, they simply write in what the blank asks for: [title of show].
And though Hunter begins the project reluctantly, in the end he’s the one who gets the most carried away with dreams of fame, fortune and a Tony Award.
The two decide they will write a musical about writing a musical, and the script for their show becomes the script for what we are watching.
They audition and hire a couple of women to co-star and help develop the show.
Heidi (Amanda Miller) is a comedienne who has been in the chorus of two Broadway shows, while Susan (Cathy Hirsch) is a compulsive foodie, none too bright, who has shelved dreams of stardom for a daytime office job.
The show becomes cleverly self-referential. Example: Hunter might suddenly say, “I really feel like we need to get out of this scene, ’cause it seems too long,” and the lights instantly go to black.
The laughs are consistent, the songs are both witty and insightful, and the performances admirable. No costumes beyond street clothes, no set beyond four chairs, and just that fine keyboardist in the band.
But it’s all you need for a fun, entertaining evening of musical theater. “[title of show]” runs about 95 minutes with no intermission.
Word to the wise: It’s a small theater and a limited run, so make your reservations early.
The Candy Project 