Theatre in Review: Lysistrata Jones (Walter Kerr Theatre)

	Liz. Mikel and company.

The good news is that Lysistrata Jones has made the leap to Broadway, nicely fluffed up, with almost all of its charm intact. The not-so-good news is the show doesn't put it best foot forward at the top, a misstep that proves damaging. Still, it offers the kind of kick otherwise missing on Broadway at the moment.

As before, Douglas Carter Beane (libretto) and Lewis Flinn (music and lyrics) have gleefully crossbred Aristophanic Old Comedy with the musicals of Rodgers and Hart, filtering everything through a hip-hop musical sensibility to create a cheeky, wisecracking sex comedy that's both classical and thoroughly up-to-the-minute. Set in Athens University ("established 411 B.C.," according to Allen Moyer's amusing show curtain), the action centers on the title character, a transfer student who is appalled by the basketball team's decades-long record of losses. Seeking to stir up an apathetic student body interested only in heavy-duty partying, she convinces the players' girlfriends to stage a sex strike until Athens wins a game. The unintended consequences of this plan include several breakups, a disastrous trip to the local bordello, and a budding gay romance.

As in the classic musicals of yore, the format is relaxed, freeform, and elastic enough to include stray gags about such unlikely subjects as Kitty Dukakis, M. Night Shyamalan, and Newt Gingrich's Tiffany's charge account. The screwball lines come thick and fast. "My parents, when they went to college, were on the fringes of society; they were theatre majors," says Lysistrata, explaining her penchant for political activism. "Todd is my slave name," says a nice white Jewish boy who, desperate to be known as a playa, insists on being known as Cinesias. "I have all these urges that I channel into leftist action," says Xander, the excruciatingly politically correct blogger with a crush on Lysistrata. In a Broadway first, a character uses the Siri function on her iPhone to find the nearest bordello. (Siri responds with an extensive list, complete with customer reviews.)

Flinn's appealing score -- one of the few heard on Broadway recently to incorporate a truly contemporary sound -- includes "I Don't Think So," which lays out the ladies' no-sex strategy; "Where Am I Now?", a rousing Act One closer for Lysistratra; and "When She Smiles," an appealing ballad for Mick, the team's captain, who finds himself falling unexpectedly for the spikiest member of the cheerleading squad.

Where this production goes wrong -- and I wonder if it is one reason for the show's all-over-the-place reviews -- is in the opening number, "Right Now." In the far-more-intimate Off Broadway production, it was a winning introduction to the show's mood and methodology. At the Walter Kerr, it seems overstaged, and Tony Meola's sound mix -- which elsewhere is acceptable -- is muddy and indistinct. It's a fast-moving number with some dense lyrics and, right now, it's pretty much impossible to hear. (Although Lysistrata Jones is hardly on the same level, one is reminded of the troubles A Funny Thing Happened on the Way to the Forum had before Stephen Sondheim came up with "Comedy Tonight.") The unfortunate result is the cast has to work extra hard to get the audience in the right mood, and it's a good half hour before the fun really starts to pop.

On the other hand, a show that seemed a little overlong Off Broadway now moves with all due speed under Dan Knetchges' direction; Knetchges also provided the highly original choreography, which blends basketball moves with school-of-Martha Graham classical gestures and hip-hop styles, resulting in a distinct and delightful dance vocabulary. The uncommonly charming cast proves itself right at home in a Broadway house. Patti Murin's Lysistrata is a most convincing rabble-rouser, belting her numbers with brio and engaging in amusing romantic warfare with the Xander of Jason Tam, a deft comedian and nifty dancer. Josh Segarra's thousand-watt smile and skill at throwing away lines are put to excellent use in the role of Mick, who tangles with Robin, a feminist librarian and poetry slammer. (I particularly enjoyed the look of sheer incomprehension on Segarra's face as Mick struggles to understand a reference to Emma Goldman.) Lindsay Nicole Chambers is fun as Robin, who unexpectedly finds herself part of the in crowd, and Liz Mikel adds plenty of soul-sister attitude as Hetaira, who is both a madam and a representative from Mount Olympus.

The production has been cleverly bumped up for Broadway without becoming overbearing. Moyer's two-level gymnasium set has been reconfigured sensibly for the Kerr stage; he has also added some amusing signage -- for the Eros Lodge, where Hetaira runs her business, and for the bacchanal that brings down the curtain. Michael Gottlieb's lighting rig takes the LED strips that were used for high side lighting Off Broadway and places them on the edge of the set's second level, using them for kicky color chases during the musical numbers, and he has added an upstage wall of lights that produces a number of lively wipes and other effects; this is his Broadway debut as a designer - he has been an assistant on several other shows -- and he instantly establishes himself as a distinctive talent. The costumes, by David C. Woolard and Thomas Charles LeGalley blend contemporary fashions right out of an H&M sale with some clever updates on classical Greek styles -- love the Pan outfit for Xander!

Lysistrata Jones isn't one for the ages -- but it is the kind of youthful, flippant entertainment that Broadway should be getting three or four times a year. As we enter into the winter season, it offers a welcome breath of springtime.--David Barbour