Gender blenders

Blending the dark fable of vivisection and interspecies enslavement of H.G. Wells’ The Island of Dr. Moreau with the nightmarishly grim, matricidal fairytale of Bluebeard may not sound like the ideal recipe for an evening of musical comedy. Unless, of course, you are familiar with the Blue Room Theatre Company’s predilection for mixing the macabre with the comical.

The company has found a perfect vehicle for its aesthetic in the plays of Charles Ludlam, the Obie award-winning playwright whose “theater of the ridiculous” productions mix elements of high art, farce, sexual ambiguity, slapstick and schlock horror into plays that challenge the audience’s preconceptions while simultaneously provoking both laughter and thoughtful contemplation of the underlying themes.

Sound a bit lofty? Don’t worry, Bluebeard, as presented at the Blue Room, is a great ride. Co-directors Betty Burnz and Martin Chavira have crafted a production that is both beautiful to look at and great fun to listen to, and the cast is obviously having a great time with the characters.

The play is set in Baron Von Bluebeard’s lair on the Island of Lost Love, where the Baron is obsessively seeking to create, by way of transformative surgery, a third gender, which will transcend the limitations of the current two sexes and provide “new possibilities for love.”

The music, flawlessly and beautifully performed by Maurice Spencer Teilmann and Matt Hammons on a prerecorded soundtrack, is played at the optimum volume to support the singers without ever drowning out the lyrics, as has been a problem with several Blue Room shows that employed live musicians performing alongside the cast.

The play, originally produced in 1970, retains the psychedelic aura of self-acceptance and exploration that reigned in the pre-AIDS era of the sexual revolution, and the costumes, designed by “Burnz and Cast,” enhance the physicality of the characters and add to the fairytale ambiance of Burnz and Rob Wilson’s minimalist but effective set design, Emily Porter’s dreamlike scenic art and Wilson’s excellent lighting design.

Of course, none of these elements would add up to all that much, entertainment-wise, if the cast couldn’t live up to the demands of the material, and here, as usual at the Blue Room, there is no cause for concern.

Jeremy Votava as Bluebeard is regal and mad and has a fine dramatic baritone. Gina Tropea as Sybil, his niece and latest experimental subject, expertly mingles innocence and coquettishness, demonstrating once again that she is as fine a musical comedian as Chico can offer. Matt Hammons, who many may remember for his tour de force role as Hedwig, of Angry Inch fame, is excellent as the servant Sheemish. The aforementioned sexual ambiguity is reinforced by Handsome Gorgeous as Lamia the Leopard Woman and Lisa Schmidt as Rodney Parker, and Michele Smith as Hecate brings a lithe, witchy sensuality to bear on her scenes.

According to the company’s Web site, Bluebeard is “Not recommended for children or anyone with delicate sensibilities (woo hoo!)!” And this reviewer will go along with the first part of that statement, not because children wouldn’t enjoy the spectacle, the songs and most of the humor, but because they might interrupt one’s enjoyment of the play by asking too many questions that are revelatory of one’s own delicate sensibilities.

But, as to those who possess, or profess to possess, said delicate sensibilities, I heartily recommend taking in this production; it will no doubt inspire you to reflect on the nature of humor, love, lust, moral decency and ethical scientific experimentation, and lord knows these are topics that justify refined contemplation.