Naked Boys Singing

Reviewed by Holly Bartges

Once upon a long time ago, following a sermon I preached on the art of touching and being touched on a variety of different levels, a bug-eyed, tongue-hanging sleaze ball, disguised as an upstanding member of the congregation and community, grabbed my arm slurring, “So you like to be touched, do you?” My skin crawled.

What a sad commentary on our Puritanical Victorian society. What if Queen Victoria had declared the art of eating was to be denied while she gorged herself behind locked doors rather than denying human sexuality? That tickling thought conjures up a rather humorous cartoon of a very different society. The overwhelming crimes against power, hate and frustration focused on rape and sexual misconduct would have a very different flavor.

So why would I want to take the time to schedule the Theatre Group’s regional premiere of Naked Boys Singing playing an open-ended run at Theatre On Broadway when there are numerous outstanding productions begging for attention?

Say what you want about nudity shows. Repeat the jokes and get it over with. There’s a reason Naked Boys Singing has been running in New York since 1999. Oh, yes for some it may be for an opportunity to ogle. It may even be for righteous indignation and whispered jokes behind closed doors. Even that wears thin after a while.

The truth behind this remarkable musical revue by six guys confident living in their own skin is “There is more to being naked than taking off one’s clothes.” We are an astonishing society of hiding, wearing pretense over our head, clothed in political correctness, and slippery cloth of high-flying ideals resounding in blank stares and hollow words.

Conceived by Robert Schrock and written by 13 poetically correct artists: Stephen Bates, Marie Cain, Perry Hart, Shelly Markham, Jim Morgan, David Pevsner, Rayme Sciaroni, Mark Savage, Ben Schaechter, Robert Schrock, Trance Thompson. Mark Winkler and Bruce Vilanch played, camped, laughed, and giggled their way through a bevy of brash new songs with a touch of poignant seriousness and a touch of sad.

Executive Artistic Director of Theatre Group, Steven Tangedal, grabbed the script and made it his own with an exuberant talented cast consisting of: David Ballew, Todd Black, Michael Emmitt, Randy Franks, Theron LaFountain, Shannon McCarthy, and George Salas. Ballew’s ingenious choreography bestows high-toned precision with the singers/dancers/actors who had very little to hide behind except a chair, a hat, and periodic pants. Darren Wirth’s live musical keyboard furnishes an extra special touch of fun, frolic, and celebration of a gripping tone with a touch of thoughtful sadness.

On a simple two level set, Naked Boys Singing begins on an appreciative note with chairs, top hats, and the rollicking song “Gratuitous Nudity” energizing the thought “Being naked means much more than just being uncovered. Nakedness is just another window to the soul.” That’s an idea that can be taken out for a very long walk.

Ballew follows with a song/dance routine nudging humor to come out to play with “Naked Maid” prefaced with being “desperate for a job.”

Salas turns the tide, with the assistance of Emmitt and Black, on a longing for the simple times of “Robert Mitchum.” The only number performed fully clothed, reminiscent of the days when pretty boys weren’t the norm in pop culture. Mitchum’s bedroom eyes revealed an interior nakedness he owned.

Granted, “Naked Maid,” and “Perky Little Porn Star,” deliciously sung with audience acknowledgment by McCarthy, are the only two of the 13 songs giving credence to nakedness turning some people on. Truth is truth, and only right to make its point.

Emmitt’s haunting “I got angry. I got lost” embedded in the song “Kris” would break the heart of the thickest mask laced with religiosity. The song remembers Kris who died of AIDS with the longing of “look what you missed.”

Oh, to call a spade a spade, which is exactly what “Members Only” does as Franks, Ballew, Black and the cast run hell-bent for leather through the various slang terms for the penis, giving way to an adolescent flavor, but so well performed who cares?

Obviously not a show for children, Naked Boys Singing is for grown-ups, those flirting with the idea of growing up, and those who have a specific goal to grow up sometime in the not too distant future. With tongue-in-cheek, it toys with smut, frolics with the unexpected, drives home the agony of loss, flaunts its nakedness with abandoned freedom, speaks to liberating issues still very much covered up, all in fun and fancy with an upbeat score and poetic lyrics, and an extraordinary talented cast.

Giddy, fun, hysterical, entertaining, there is good reason Naked Boys Singing continues to play to solid houses in New York, across the country, and at Theatre On Broadway. Brazen, bold, open, honest, Naked Boys Singing stands on no pretense with any deceit to hide behind. There isn’t any place to hide, and that is a very good thing.