Reviewed 1/16/05
I’ve never made secret my loathing of the country western musical The Best Little Whorehouse in Texas. What I’ve inadvertently discovered, though, is that in the right frame of mind and with a sparkling cast and band presenting it, this musical can overcome my pretentiousness and make me smile. A lot. I am big enough to admit when I was wrong, and Desert Foothills Theatre’s current production as helmed by Ann M. Tully was able to turn me into a fan. With a pair of excellent leads (Janine Smith as a very Wynona-like Miss Mona and an earnest George Walt as the first Sheriff Ed Earl Dodd I’ve seen who is also a strong singer), a collection of sweethearts for Miss Mona’s girls, and an onstage band that seems to have been imported directly from Austin, there’s a lot to like about this unabashedly base good time.
Desert Foothills is quite frank about the sexual content in their advertising, and there’s good reason. Shadow play on the onstage Venetian blinds on Desiree Maurer’s well designed set leaves nothing to the imagination, choreographer Hilary Hirsch is not afraid to lace the dances with as much sultriness as possible without becoming crass, and Tully has not bent to decorum and slashed away any of the unsubtle lines or crude language. Diane Welle’s costumes are a tip of the hat to 70s excesses and Texas tastes. There’s never an outfit that’s too revealing or a moment that is beyond the pale, but they certainly don’t mince around the subject, either. Though the pacing of the Sunday afternoon performance started off with a noticeable lethargy, the show began rolling with the introduction of Curt Wooley’s hilariously over-the-top Melvin P. Thorpe, and kicked into full gear by the middle of the first act through the bittersweet finale.
Smith’s performance of Mona is a creation all her own.
She is all twang and spunk with an excellent voice and heaping helpings of
charm. She connects strongly with everyone. Wall is funny, if a bit unfocused.
Charlotte M. Strayhorne puts on a show when she belts “Twenty-four
Hours of Lovin’,” though she strains at the higher notes during “No
Lies.” Amy Powers’ Doatsy Mae is cute and she sells her song,
while Jeff Davey is a personable side-stepping Governor. The ensemble is
a cast of dozens and while there are some who stand out during dances for
their obvious gaffes, there is enough heart to overcome some of the lackluster
presentations and they are strong singers as a unit.
Kevin Glenn leads the wonderful onstage Rio Grande band that includes outstanding work by Bobby Krech’s violin and James Myers’ steel guitar. Mark Harris’ lighting has a few flourishes, but the actors have a tendency to stand outside their light. The evening does have some flaws including long set changes that are in need of rehearsal and led to a few inadvertent jokes.
This is a spirited show that appeals to baser pleasures and worth a visit by anyone who wants to check their brains at the door and surrender to a good ol’ time.
