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2005-01-07 | 4:51 p.m.
"I have to push the pramalot..."
Oh, how I long for the days of yore, when Tim Curry was dressed in corset and fishnets, strutting and singing across the room and saucily seducing Susan Sarandon. (suffering succotash, that's one hell of an alliterative sentence) The Tim Curry of those days owned the space he inhabited, throwing himself into whatever insanity was called for. But there comes a time when we must put away our childish desires and become an adult. Unfortunately in Tim Curry�s case, this means he now woodenly wanders around the stage and bravely serenades a Bernadette Peters in the new Spamalot. Currently running in Chicago before it tours BROADWAY, as we're reminded constantly in this Second City, this production by Eric Idle and Mike Nichols also stars David Hyde Pierce (of Frasier fame) and Hank Azaria (Helen Hunt's ex-husband), as well as a cast of characters that find themselves dressed as knights, peasants, cancan dancers, Vegas showgirls, and Carmen Miranda. Spamalot is pretty much a stage version of The Holy Grail with some new musical numbers and Mel Brooks montages. I don't know if the cow's torch song is meant to be an homage to Madeline Kahn, but I'm assuming it is.

I'm sorry to report that I don't think this show is worth a chunk of change. The cast is good, but doesn't really seem to use the talents of the triumvirate. Curry is limited as King Arthur; he sings and acts, but blandly. As the straight man to the wackiness that surrounds him, he just wasn't cutting it. Pierce was wonderful as Brave Sir Robin, but again--for a man with such impeccable comic timing, he had few chances to shine. Azaria's ability to do voice work was an odd choice for Lancelot. He had fun as a Frenchman, but that was about it. It's hard to screw up this venture--the plot and dialogue are already done, and once the songs and self-referential quips are added, you're on your way. I didn't like the times they'd break the fourth wall. Either it's there or it's not; don't treat me like an idiot. The audience was insane, applauding every phrase that exited into the air. I understand the chair-dance of glee when you r favorite part is approaching--I have been known to perform it on occasion. But reciting dialogue ahead of/along with the actors, while acceptable in The Globe, isn't what I expect from the theater--unless it's the Rocky Horror Picture Show, and that's an entirely different experience altogether.

I brought this neatly full-circle (as big a shock to me as it is to you, I assure you), and I'll wrap up with this: amazing cult classic movie becomes Broadway-bound musical that needs more camp or more legitimacy before I could consider it a great show. This means that audiences will flock to it to relive their Python days and it will sell out for years.


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