Get your knickers in a twist
Theater
Looks can be deceiving. An apartment with the feel of a cozy
cottage appears to be a happy home: a glowing fireplace, a kitchen filled with
spices, a cage housing a chirping canary. Sepia-toned lighting transforms the
flat into an antique photograph, charming and warm. Bouncing German marches
play, setting an upbeat mood. But within this inviting setting, dirty little
secrets hide.
The young wife of a government clerk, Louise Maske
has a certain reputation to uphold. Namely, her husband’s.
Her husband, Theo, is ashamed when, in front of the entire town, at the king’s
parade, Louise’s underpants end up around her ankles. Gossip spreads quickly in
1910 Dusseldorf
and Louise’s panties (and the mysteries that they were supposed to conceal) are
soon notorious. When her infamy draws two infatuated boarders to rent the
vacant room in their house, Louise’s clueless husband, blinded by greed, can’t
wait to welcome them.
Versati, a romantic Italian poet, is
the first to arrive and lay claim to the room and Louise. Smooth, romantic, and
seductive, J. Paul Nicholas’ Versati easily enthralls
the love-starved Louise with his sentimental, lackluster sonnets. When Benjamin
Cohen comes along, a barber with ironically wild hair, her plan to allow Versati to seduce her is thwarted.
The plot spins into a love hexagon when nosy upstairs neighbor
Gertrude becomes involved in encouraging Louise’s affair. Scheming, loud, and
excitable, Mary Ann Conk’s Gertrude seems to be moving, even when she isn’t. Think
I Love Lucy, but make Ethel more
youthful and the star of the show (Louise) and move devious Lucy upstairs to
become the attention-starved best friend.
A dapper man with slicked hair, an antiquated moustache,
waistcoat, cravat, and hanging watch chain, Theo is concerned with appearances.
Bryant Mason’s Theo is a whiner and a know-it-all, constantly puffing out his
chest and strutting about. He proclaims his masculinity so loudly, it makes one
think he doth protest too much. The fact that he shirks his husbandly
responsibilities with the excuse that he isn’t financially ready to have a
child only makes him more suspicious.
Maury Ginsberg’s neurotic, nearly Woody Allen-esque
portrayal of Cohen, a hypochondriac geek with spastic tendencies, is the
standout. One can’t help but feel for this socially backwards introvert while
at the same time hating him for preventing Louise from reaching sexual
satisfaction with Versati.
Watch for Lee Moore’s half-Lurch, half-Vincent Price portrayal of
Klinglehoff. Although his character seems to have
little purpose in the storyline, his delivery of a foul-mouthed string of
expletives is shockingly hilarious.
Each character is
exaggerated, larger than life — all except Alyssa Rae’s Louise. The
spindle around which the rest of the plot winds, she is a canvas on which the
other characters paint. Louise, an innocent kept caged in her home, has never
been celebrated. When she becomes notorious, thanks to her underwear upset, she
is empowered by her sexuality. Rae is a beautiful blond with a charming
physique, but the realization that Louise must come to, that her body equals
power, doesn’t even begin to appear until the show’s conclusion.
The show is bawdy. From a
obvious double entendre about cutting Theo’s sausage from tip to end before
cooking it, to naughty puns about “beating around the bush,” to blatant
comments about Louise deserving to have “something in (her) at night, other
than sauerkraut,” this show is definitely not meant for the conservative, faint
of heart, or children. What did you expect in a show about underpants?
The Underpants | playing through February 4 | GevaTheatreCenter, 75 Woodbury Boulevard
| $14.50-$53.50. | 232-GEVA, www.gevatheatre.org.
This article appears in Jan 10-16, 2007.
