'Suds' a hit with '50s, '60s music and vintage atmosphere

Topeka Capital-Journal, The, Oct 19, 2003 by Phil Grecian Capital-Journal

REVIEW

By Phil Grecian

THE CAPITAL-JOURNAL

Terrance McKerrs' Theatre Pub has opened "Suds," a 1960s musical confection during what is perhaps the busiest week Topeka theater has ever experienced.

The town has seven shows opening in six days, beginning last Wednesday with Steven Wright at the Topeka Performing Arts Center and continuing Friday and Saturday with shows produced by Civic Theatre, Washburn University Theatre and the Hocker (working in tandem), The Karen Hastings Players (two separate, alternating productions), and "Suds." Monday tops it off with "Saturday Night Fever" at TPAC.

My review of McKerrs' last production was written after attending a dress rehearsal. It was only fair this time around to attend a full performance.

I wasn't disappointed.

After a few bookless revue-type shows in recent months, McKerrs is back doing what he does best at the Pub: daffy, small-cast comedy with lots of familiar music and inventive choreography.

The plot isn't much, and the dramatic problem changes abruptly in the second act, but it doesn't much matter. The music and performances sell the piece.

Cindy (Cheryl Banez Ocfemia) attempts to kill herself when her boyfriend/pen-pal dumps her. Two guardian angels, ditzy Deedee (Brenda Zimmerman) and gutsy Marge (Annette Cook), intercede. Several men (Rick Bixler, playing every one of them) enter the laundromat and Cindy considers them as possible boyfriends. Eventually, Cindy helps Dee Dee find a love of her own, Marge moves on to her next assignment, and Cindy finds Mr. Right.

The plot is dumber than a foam rubber anvil, but the plot isn't an issue. McKerrs has a strong cast who can sell the heck out of nearly 40 pre-1965 rock 'n' roll songs.

Ocfemia sets the pace with a wild and rockin' "Please Mr. Postman," during which she and Bixler offer hysterical choreography. Bixler takes the stage later with "Secret Agent Man." Both Zimmerman and newcomer Cook get 11 o'clock numbers. Zimmerman tears it up with a show-stopping "Today I Met the Boy I'm Gonna Marry," and Cook follows shortly after with a jaw-dropping "You Don't Have to Say You Love Me."

Musical direction by Skip Ellis is solid and playful, and the set is a wonderful late-'50s style laundromat. If you are of a certain age, your song is here, and the clothes and hairdos are straight out of your high school yearbook.

Phil Grecian can be reached

at PGrecian@aol.com.