Playwrights: Ensemble
At: Second City Mainstage, 1616 N. Wells
Phone: ( 312 ) 337-3992; $18-$24
Runs through: open run
The press materials describe Second City's 92nd revue as 'amusing.' For better or worse, that one word accurately sums up this fast-paced, clever revue, which delivers on the Second City tried and true mix of political satire, improvisation, and inspired nuttiness. I say for better or worse because this revue, while definitely worth the price of admission, lacks some of the bite and lunacy of previous revues. There are plenty of chuckles here, but no giddy flights of can't-catch-your-breath laughter. There are plenty of disrespectful nods to the current regime in Washington, and contemporary mores, but nothing that really ventures into the realm of, 'Oh my God, did they really do or say that?' In short, there's plenty here to surprise and delight, but little to shock or skirt the boundaries of good taste ( qualities I have admired in previous revues ) .
This installment kicks off with the entire cast as a fundamentalist sect merrily extolling the virtues of their belief, then veers into lunacy when their zealous leader urges them to jump from the top of the John Hancock into the 'arms of Jesus.' Such commitment gives his parish pause ( they sing 'jump into the arms of the sidewalk' ) and they step back to let their leader make his ultimate sacrifice alone, providing biting commentary on both the right wing religious fanatic conviction and action.
The remainder of the first act lampoons such targets as Comcast, on-the-street liberal petitioners to stop the war in Iraq, steroids in major league baseball, CIA operatives in private life ( zany work from Molly Erdman as a Bush-administration-felled agent now reduced to sniffing out terrorists as part of the PTA school carnival planning committee ) , white guys wearing ties, and an ongoing gag about a Catholic novice being tested for gayness before being permitted entry into the seminary. This last bit could have gone a lot further than testing the applicant's reaction to words like 'banana' and 'pickle' ( too easy ) , although I did appreciate The Golden Girls reference.
The second act brings more of the same with the high points spotlighting SUV sales in energy-deficient times, a Harriet Tubman/ Rosa Parks riff that came close to some of the old irreverence, and two jumping musical numbers centering around a 'queer eye' style makeover of staid Secretary of State Condoleezza Rice ( anything that promises to make her a 'piece of smokin' hot ass' is pretty hilarious ) . Weaker moments delve into the virtues of parenthood over remaining childless and an extended piece about a north shore dysfunctional family taking in the unintelligible 'snake lady,' a refugee from Hurricane Katrina, given memorable life by Claudia Michelle Wallace.
The ensemble is whipsmart ( their improvisation is especially good this round ) , but the standout award has to go to Maribeth Monroe, whose comic timing and characterizations provide the highpoint of the show ( watch as she transforms into a liquored up, meta-horny old crone seducing the young petitioner against the war in Iraq…brilliant stuff ) .
This revue delivers the Second City formula with definite smarts and panache. Just don't come looking to be shocked, or needing a change of underwear.