Kirsten Sindelar, Taylor Fryza, Sarah Lounsberry, and Joelle Smith in The Bikinis
It's summertime – a great time for both leisure and nostalgia (or a cultural history lesson, depending on your age). The Circa '21 Dinner Playhouse's current production is The Bikinis, which is subtitled A New Musical Beach Party, and I attended Thursday's preview night. The musical part is enjoyable; the four singers and four-member band perform admirably. However, I'd personally subtitle the rest of the show When Bad Scripts Happen to Good People.
This particular party, with its book by Ray Roderick and James Hindman, first washed up on the theatrical beach in 2012. Musically, it consists of about 30 pop hits and snippets thereof, spanning more than 25 years. Jukebox musicals (though this one does contain two original songs, with music by Joe Baker and lyrics by Roderick) can be problematic. It appears that some people – people who can afford composition licenses but have no script-writing chops – think that forcing old hit songs into a new script is an easy formula for a smash show. Despite the success of Mamma Mia!, it ain't necessarily so. Circa '21 just staged Jersey Boys, a retrospective of the Four Seasons' career, and this biographical type of musical anthology often works well. Unfortunately, The Bikinis' script detracts from the fun stuff, though director Brad Hauskins and musical director Ron May, along with their cast, musicians, and crew, did as well as possible with this material.
The show's creators borrowed their premise from a 2007 news story about a developer who offered to pay $510 million for an entire trailer park. Residents approved the sale, but the prospective buyer backed out (cue sad trombone). This script tells us that the Bikinis – a teenage girl group that won a talent contest in 1964 and went on to regional success – have reunited decades later for a benefit for the residents of a trailer park (excuse me: "mobile home beach resort"). I'm fuzzy about the efficacy of this small fundraiser, as these folks would get a huge payoff if they sell. But they're also the (implied) audience for the Bikinis' concert … which means they bought tickets to their own benefit? And on the night of the show's staging (on New Year's Eve 1999, for some reason), they're also voting on whether to sell? Frankly, I stopped paying attention to the plot. It would've been much better as a revue – an upcycled concert with no plot – rather than this uneasy oddball hodgepodge, which includes a bizarre retelling of the movie Beach Blanket Bingo, painful stereotyped impressions of Italians and Jews, an awkward exhortation to "get down with your psychedelic bad self," a feeble remark about liking the guy with the "big surfboard," and the like. In this musical, the play is not the thing. The music is.
Circa '21's Bikinis are Joelle Smith's Barbara, Kirsten Sindelar's Annie, Sarah Lounsberry's Jodi, and Taylor Fryza's Karla. Each performer has a strong and distinctive singing voice, and it's glorious to hear each one solo, as well as when blended in harmony. Their endurance is incredible, too, as they're all onstage with barely a break. The script's timeline would place the characters in their 50s, though the actors certainly don't look it, and I discerned their accents as Jersey (sisters Jodi and Annie), Philly (cousin Karla), and New York City (friend Barbara) now and then, which was fine – occasional hints of East Coast tones onstage are better than walloping us over the head with them. Choreographer Robyn Messerly, though, has given the vocalists more than enough to do during their musical numbers, as the abundance of synchronized Supremes-style steps sometimes detracts, rather than enhances.
Director Hauskins, who, with Bootlegger pre-show performances and acting roles, has easily logged more Circa stage time than the rest of the performers combined (and that doesn't even count his directing and playwriting credits), also plays bass during the show. Pianist Emmett Boedeker, keyboardist Sara Leigh Beason, and drummer Tristan Tapscott fill out the rest of the pro-caliber band. The tunes include classic must-haves for the show's setting, among them "Itsy-Bitsy Teenie-Weenie Yellow Polka-Dot Bikini," "Under the Boardwalk," and "Heat Wave." One of my favorites, performed in knee-high white boots, is "These Boots Are Made for Walkin'." The cast projected more energy in Act II even during the slower numbers, which included "Incense and Peppermints," "Dedicated to the One I Love," and Melanie's "Lay Down (Candles in the Rain)" … though I'm side-eyeing the weird dialogue about hippies, the war, and women's empowerment. The disco-era hits were well done, too, but felt like a last-minute inclusion by the script's creators.
Scenic designer Becky Meissen framed the stage with palms and cabanas (practical for quick costume adjustments), while the long, asymmetrically draped strings of oversize market lights above are festively atmospheric, and the beachy New-Year's-Eve festoonery extends into the house. Technical director Richard Baker likely oversaw the overhead screen with projections aiding the narrative. Meanwhile, and gratifyingly, the menu went Hawaiian rather than Jersey-an, and my Kalua Pork was tender and delicious. Bottom line: Do your best to ignore the script, and go to The Bikinis to enjoy the food and revel in the music.
The Bikinis runs at the Circa '21 Dinner Playhouse (1828 Third Avenue, Rock Island IL) through August 24, and more information and tickets are available by calling (309)786-7733 extension 2 and visit Circa21.com.
