Theatre in Review: Lysistrata Jones (Transport Group/The Gym at Judson)

	Josh Segarrra, Patti Murin, and members of the company.

Every once in a while, a show comes along that reminds us there are no new ideas in the world - no good ones, anyway. A good example is Lysistrata Jones. On the surface, it's a fast, funny, fizzy entertainment, populated by a cast of fresh young faces and filled with gags that are as up-to-the-minute as your last Twitter feed. In fact, however, it pays tribute to two venerable -if not ancient -- theatre traditions.

As the title reveals, the premise of Lysistrata Jones is as ancient as Old Comedy of 400 BC. Helping himself to the setup of the first and still most famous antiwar play (as so many others have done), the librettist, Douglas Carter Beane, gives it a few sly twists. In his version, the title character, rather than spreading peace, wants to encourage aggression in the local males. She's a transfer student at Athens University; appalled by the basketball team's losing ways -- the players clearly see each game as a necessary evil, to be endured in order to get to the make-out party afterward -- she organizes a sex strike among the school's female contingent. Of course, nothing goes as planned: The guys head off to the local bordello, with disastrous results; two of them discover the erotic possibilities of viewing Joel Schumacher's Batman and Robin together; and several couples ultimately find themselves matched up with new and unexpected partners.

But Aristophanes is hardly the only influence on hand: Lysistrata Jones also pays tribute to the Rodgers and Hart musicals of the '30s, specifically The Boys from Syracuse, with its mocking approach to classical comedy, and Too Many Girls, which hangs its romantic complications on the outcome of the big (football) game. Such shows were meant to be loose and casual, able to accommodate just about any joke if it earned a laugh and any song if it got a big hand. Similarly, Beane is less concerned with the logic of the plot -- which, truth to tell, wears a bit thin at times -- than with concocting gags about bloggers, texting, the films of M. Night Shyamalan, and the legal problems of Dominique Strauss-Kahn. (He even manages to fit in laugh-getting references to Amelia Earhart, and, of all people, Kitty Dukakis.) And while Lewis Flinn's score doesn't yield any gems along the lines of "Falling in Love with Love," or "I Didn't Know What Time It Was," he has come up with a number of appealing, hip-hop-inflected tunes. The opener, "Right Now," uses an infectious pop hook to establish the show's light and lively attitude. "Where Am I Now?" is a fine first-act finale for a frustrated and confused Lysistrata, and there's also an easy-on-the-ears ballad titled "When She Smiles."

In many ways, the true hero of this enterprise is director-choreographer Dan Knechtges. Taking on the George Abbott role, he keeps the action moving at a fast and furious pace, punctuated by plenty of wittily styled choreography -- a blend of modern and classical moves that suggests a collaboration between Beyoncé Knowles and Martha Graham. He has also assembled a cast of largely unknowns, all of whom we're likely to be seeing again. In the title role, Patti Murin is a most energetic troublemaker, at her most likable when confronting the unintended consequences of her plan. Jason Tam -- probably the best-known member of the cast, thanks to his role in the recent revival of A Chorus Line -- is goofily charming as Xander, a liberal blogger -- on www.leftnut.org -- who signs on as the team's mascot and falls for Lysistrata. (Kissing her impulsively, he says, embarrassed, "That happens sometimes when I discuss policy.") As the team's captain, whose homeboy manner belies his love for Robert Frost, Josh Segarra is gifted with a golden voice and a nice, offhand way with a gag. The frizzy-haired Lindsay Nicole Chambers adds a welcome touch of comic skepticism as the intellectual in the crowd. LaQuet Sharnell has a big voice and plenty of comic attitude as one of Lysistrata's cronies, who decides to teach her straying boyfriend a lesson he'll never forget. Liz Mikel easily dominates every scene she's in as the Juno-esque madam and oracle who presides over the action.

This is the latest of Transport Group's site-specific experiments, and one imagines that staging a show about basketball in a real gym must have caused considerable strain for the design team. (The Gym at Judson is in the process of being turned into a theatre; for now, however, it's still pretty much a gym.) In any event, Allen Moyer has dressed the space with the necessary banners and soft goods to get the right collegiate flavor. Two banks of lockers at left and right can spin around to indicate other locations, and he has built in a second level to accommodate the show's band. Michael Gottlieb, the lighting designer, has used LED units in a way I've never seen before, placing what I think are Philips Color Kinetics ColorBlasts in vertical arrays along the side walls, leaving them totally exposed to the audience's view. I don't know exactly how I feel about this, but it is true that he gets any number of warmly colorful looks. The gym's acoustics must have been a nightmare for Tony Meola, which probably explains why the show has a louder, more processed sound than one expects from him; still, he makes sure that the lyrics are intelligible. The costumes, by David C. Woolard and Thomas Charles LeGalley, look, appropriately, as if the designers raided their local H&M store.

This is surely not the end of Lysistrata Jones and, before it moves to another venue for what one imagines will be nice long run, Beane might think about cleaning up a few of the lamer gags, and Flinn might consider adding a number that establishes Lysistrata's need to influence events, as well a song that makes clear Xander's outsider status at the school. But any way you look at it, this is a bright and breezy entertainment; in its creators' hands, antiquity has never seemed so springlike. --David Barbour