Boulder's Dinner Theater presents the smash hit THE DROWSY CHAPERONE, playing now through May 13th in Boulder, CO. This homage to the American musical of the Jazz Age begins when a die-hard musical comedy fan dusts off his favorite album, a (fictional) 1928 smash hit called The Drowsy Chaperone (music and lyrics by Lisa Lambert and Greg Morrison; book by Bob Martin and Don McKellar). The musical magically bursts to life right in his tenant apartment and the audience is instantly immersed in the glamorous, comical tale of a celebrity bride and her uproarious wedding day. Featuring mix-ups, mayhem, and a madcap wedding, THE DROWSY CHAPERONE is hailed as one of the wittiest, craziest shows ever to hit Broadway and Boulder!
So this time around at Boulder’s Dinner Theater, (yes, in a previous life I was a secret shopper) we arrived a little late to see how the wait staff and the actors would "act" under the pressure serving late arrivals and getting ready for the show. I was impressed! They expedited service without rushing us or showing any stress. Again, the only real thing missing from the multisensory experience was music playing during dinner (bring on the jazz!) Boulder’s Dinner Theater has been a part of the community for 34 years now – I KNOW they have plenty in their repertoire, and I say USE IT! Also, it would be a nice creative touch to have the menu whimsically reflect the play’s theme. Heck, I’d eat “Paparazzi Pizza,” Manic Manicotti,” “Bridesmaid Brisket,” “Songstress Spumoni,” or Perfect Pitch Peach Pie,” wouldn’t you? While I understand the limited budgets many theaters have to work with, this could add a level of interactive fun to the already interactive motif that is “dinner theater.”
THE DROWSY CHAPERONE is truly a gay, show-within-a-show romp for the ages. At first I was like "What gay holy hell is this?!" From the opening number, Fancy Dress, it’s obvious the show is going to be over the top and delightful, but over the top-ness is necessary to do the show justice – it takes place within the imagination of an agoraphobic shut-in, after all, who has lots of time on his hands. The script is sarcastic, funny, and melodramatic, and the ensemble does a marvelous job mining this rich material. Speaking of which…
I must dedicate an entire paragraph to Brian Norber, who is spot on as the lonely, hyper-critical, antisocial Broadway fanatic simply referred to as Man in Chair. Man in Chair, in searching for a cure for his “non-specific sadness,” spins his favorite record and the musical stories come alive right there in his living room. Although so much is going on around him, Norber commands and holds the stage. His character is relatable as both narrator and mocker of all things musical. He ridicules the music, the songs, the era, the plot, the characters, and even the actors playing the roles. And it’s delightful. In Act II reality begins a slow creep and eventual crash into the tiny apartment, and the ultimate reality of Man in Chair’s existence is revealed. As the music relates lyrical stories, more of Man in Chair’s personal life is unveiled, and heart wrenchingly so. Man in Chair’s shut-in life illustrates the effects of long term isolation and could be regarded as a lesson about being true to who you are, while at the same time recognizing that it could be extremely difficult for people of any generation to embody and demonstrate all aspects of their identities. As the music swirls around and through Man in Chair, it becomes obvious that his life did not turn out the way he had hoped and that love is something to be coveted from a distance. Man in Chair is a good example of how deep the closet can be for some. His retreat-and-hide approach speaks to the difficulty many encounter in trying to find their way out in a society that continues to slam the door in their face and lock them in. There are good reasons some bury themselves in the closet – that’s exactly why I encourage everyone (gay, straight, in-between, whatever) to see this play. On a basic level, Man in Chair is all of us, and Brian Norber taps into the universal human experience of fear and loathing and the need for self-protection.