Wrong X, Put It Back, Wildcat Is No Treasure

            I’m sure some people will love 42^nd Street Moon’s production of Wildcat, but then some people will clap for a monkey in a suit, even when it throws shit at them.  I know I’m being harsh, but I have little regard for performance that attempts nothing more than to entertain with spectacle-less predictable vacuity.  I can find no compelling reason to see Wildcat at the Eureka Theatre other than to support a performing loved one, or to feed some abominable hunger for kitschy tunes and anyone-can-dance choreography.  My heart goes out to the energetic and committed performers who clearly did it for love of the stage, but nothing redeems this musical, which was never written to last beyond the endurance of its original star, Lucille Ball.  42^nd Street Moon admirably combs the archives of theatre history for ‘unjustly “lost” treasure[s],’ but Wildcat is no treasure.  It shows its age and relevance in 2009 like a horse drawn carriage at NASCAR; interesting as a historical retrospective and entertaining only when the horse guts smear along the guardrail.

            It seems to me that the tired structure of some musicals, i.e. scene-song, scene-song, ad nauseum, only really works when the song that follows a scene contributes something new to the theme, plot, or entertainment value of the show.  If the song rehashes something we already know, then it better be pretty and the actors better summersault over a lava pit while singing it--and I better smell the sulfur.

Wildcat tries to do this, but it mostly can’t for one unfortunate reason:  the original production’s entertainment value rested on a seasoned comedic performance by Lucille Ball… and she’s dead.  No doubt the original production was saturated with Ball’s humor--it’s practically written into the script--and no doubt the show’s original success can be attributed to her.  Instead of acknowledging and commenting on Ball’s hit performance, this production tries to recreate it and understandably fails.  If the producers of Wildcat had cast a man in Lucy’s role and played up the camp of the production, thereby commenting on the show as a relic from forgotten pasts, I would probably have loved it.  Instead, they tried to resurrect one of America’s most loved stars, an act which puts them in the same boat as Elvis impersonators.

So now that I’ve explained why I don’t think this show should ever have been revived, I’ll explain why I think the show’s message is socially backward—and I don’t mean the racist ‘mexican’ number in the second act.  But before I explain, I’ll take a moment to respond to those voices that might cry out, “it’s just entertainment, if you’re looking for a message you’re reading too much into it.”  To these voices, I say this: nothing is just entertainment.  Entertainment is only entertainment because it is different from what we conceive to be normal life.  Even someone doing summersaults is entertaining only because most people can’t do that.  This relationship between what’s performed on stage and what’s lived on the sidewalk is always addressed by the performance, whether overtly or implicitly. 

This production of Wildcat chooses to entertain with a comedic story about an unscrupulous entrepreneur, and assumes it’s okay to bully and cheat people into profitable business models--or assumes we don’t care.  I’m sure one could argue that the comedic attack of this production is squarely targeted at ruthless capitalism, but I looked and couldn’t find any moment where the show acknowledged the questionable behavior of its protagonist.  Yes, the love interest constantly condemns her as a liar, but this doesn’t stop her from lying or him from inexplicably falling in love with her.  This lying, bullying, cheating protagonist ends up with both the riches and the man she wanted.  Even the movie Superbad, in which teenagers steal booze, chase tail, and shoot up cop cars, forces its characters to deal with the hilarious and sometimes dangerous consequences of their reckless behavior.  Wildcat’s cavalier attitude about corrupt capitalism is particularly brow rising when we’re facing an ongoing economic crisis caused by unregulated and unlawful business practices.  Either I missed something, or this show supports Enron.

I know this last argument is a bit of a stretch.  Like I said in my last blog, what’s funny and what’s offensive is hard to define.  But I can’t sit by while I think a blatant sign of ignorance or deliberate obtuseness parades on stage.  If you disagree with me, I invite your comments, so that I can try to learn what I can from you.

Despite my chilly feelings for the production, I’d like to impress my respect for the performers, who pulled out a few surprises, and made a musical on life support hobble around like a randy seventy-year-old at their first convalescent home.  Such a feat deserves a round of applause.

I’d also like to say that I have nothing against the elderly, or the fact that they probably constitute 90% of 42^nd Street Moon’s audience.  People like that have supported theatre long enough to inspire ungrateful young squirts like me.  It’s just that sometimes I wish the shows they loved could resonate meaningfully with me about the issues I face in the world today.  As I feel about too many musicals, Wildcat avoids said issues, avoids the world and tries to be escapist entertainment, only to disappoint.