Review of Whorehouse

"Head on Down to Best Little Whorehouse"
by Nick Rogers

Those who like their musicals on top will find plenty to whoop about in the Springfield Theatre Centre's production of "The Best Little Whorehouse in Texas".

Director Bill Bauser Jr.'s fast-paced show has a heart as big as its production numbers and larger-than-life characters. It's equally good at comic exaggeration and heartbreaking realism.

The quirky charm is turned on early in this tale of the Chicken Ranch, where, as it's said, guests enjoy a small thrill from time to time, but there's nothing dirty going on. Doubling as bandleader and narrator, Mary Myers opens the show with a thick-twanged delivery of the bordello's history.

As ts most recent manager, Miss Mona Stangley, Lori Ann Fahnders combines tender, matronly affection for her girls, her own vulnerability and a distinct my-way-or-the-highway attitude. "Don't let your mouth overlad your capabilities" is one of many gems in a script referring to women't periods as "the curse"and dubbing the Ranch a place where history and football players get made.

Mona's soft spot has to do with the protection she gets from well-meaning, ill-tempered Sheriff Ed Earl Dodd (Rich McCoy), whom she's long loved in secret. McCoy is alternately hangdog and hyper and convincing as both, especially when getting Yosemite Sam-style mad and cursing a blue streat at Melvin P. Thorpe (Michael Murphy), a moralist crusader trying to shut the Ranch down.

Only a missing bag of confetti doesn't scream Rip Taylor about Murphy's hilarious work. Wearing a flourescent-green suit even Prince would reject, Murphy saved one big band-chorus tempo discrepancy Friday night just with weird dancing.

The show is filled with even more colorful characters, all wonderfully played. As Jewel, Miss Mona's sassy right-hand woman, Kim Hepworth brings down the house with "24 Hours of Lovin'". Steve Williams disappears into four characters, most memorably insurance salesman C.J. Scruggs, for whom the word "sheriff" becomes "Sher-rough" in his Forrest Gump-style mouth. In a moment that slows down to focus on the Ranch's importance to Gilbert, Texas, Laurie McCoy sings a wistful ballad.

Even the least-characterized ladies of the Chicken Ranch get a moment to shine in the great "Hard Candy Christmas". The same goes for the male ensemble, whether they're acting as horny college football players or right-wing conservatives.

Behind-the-scenes work is also exceptional with Elizabeth Cheney's cute but complicated choreography, T. David Parker's clean set design, and costumes - or the occasional lack thereof - from Phyllis Maynerich and Suellen Troxell.