I've watched numerous comedies at the Circa '21 Dinner Playhouse over the past decade, and I've never seen one that I thought would be offensive to most 80-year-olds. But until Oh Mama! No Papa!, I'd never seen a comedy that would be offensive to everyone but 80-year-olds.

The time: the present invaded by the past. The setting: sanctuaries in the southwest desert. The play: Altar Call. And the playwright: Melissa McBain, who has appropriated one of the country's most volatile current debates - where the church stands on the subject of homosexuality - as her play's subject.

So far as I know, there are no steadfast rules regarding children's theatre, but two certain "don't"s would have to be: (1) Don't bore the kids, and (2) Don't confuse the kids.

Chief among many surprises in Circa '21 Dinner Playhouse's current production of The King & I is the re-discovery of just how funny the show is. For many, myself included, the news of another Rodgers & Hammerstein revival is enough to fill you with trepidation; must we sit through one of their timeless extravaganzas yet again? But it's easy to forget that this theatrical duo is legendary for good reason. Beyond their undeniable musical talents, Richard Rodgers and Oscar Hammerstein wrote strong, well-constructed shows and empathetic characters, and their productions always feature an intriguing, nearly treacherous dark side; Rodgers & Hammerstein felt no compunction about casually killing off major characters. (Every time I see The Sound of Music I have to remind myself: Oh, right. There are Nazis in this.) And although I'd be content to never see South Pacific again, a recent, invigorating production of Rodgers & Hammerstein's State Fair at Assumption High School was a welcome reminder of the duo's gifts, and Circa '21's The King & I is fantastically fine, engaging and memorable and, to a quite unexpected degree, hilarious.

Why Theatre?

"So," you might be asking, "why is the movie guy writing about theatre?" A fair question. I love theatre. A lot. I was a theatre major in college and, until recently, have spent the past decade employed at Rock Island's Circa '21 Dinner Playhouse, where I've learned about and appreciated this great art form all the more.
When I was in seventh grade, my chorus class took a charter bus up to Chicago to see Joseph & the Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat. From a row near the back of the theatre, I watched the vibrant speck that was Donnie Osmond belt out the tunes "Close Every Door" and "Joseph's Coat." On the return trip home, while the chaperone mothers murmured in fascination over the dark-haired leading man, we chorus students amused ourselves with a Joseph sing-along. The music was just that unforgettable and appealing, even to our usually unimpressionable teenage minds.
When leaving Circa '21 last Friday night, I caught glimpses of conversations about Hello Dolly!. One audience member loved it, while another found the show bland and unmemorable. I silently agreed with the latter critic.
Hey you cats, listen up. I saw a show at Circa '21 that's hoppin' and swingin' - like being inside a jukebox. Smokey Joe's Café is where all the cool Daddy-O's and neighborhood gals are dancing to music from the days of the zoot suit up to 1960s love songs. If you're expecting a plot line, a bit of spoken dialogue, you kids won't get it. This musical revue is purely fun. It involves no setup or explanation, and simply celebrates music from days gone by.
Though senior citizens, religion, sex, love, and the timely battle between good and evil are all poked fun at in Circa '21's current show, playgoers should be prepared to see more than just a lighthearted comedy. Almighty Bob is quite a funny play, but it also lifts the veil from the element that is our ever-present fear - death - and gives us the playwright's take on how life and death work.
Not only is Eve Ensler's The Vagina Monologues sexy, witty, tragic, and downright hilarious, it's also quite an educational experience. For example, I learned the clitoris contains more than 8,000 nerve endings - which is twice as many as the penis. As one actor said, "Why have a handgun when you can have a semi-automatic?" Talk about woman power.

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