Can an entire musical be carried by bawdy double-entendres based on a word that connotes both an industrious, furry mammal and a woman's nether regions? The cast of "Beaverdance" tries valiantly to make it so, while also giving a drive-by lesson on the benefits of unionizing workers, but the result is an uneven mishmash of hilarity and tedium.
A beefed-up version of an original production staged by Bedlam in 2009 with several new songs added, the show centers on a group of late-1700s Minnesota beavers — adorably clad in fur-trimmed shorts, fishnet hose and quilted tails — who band together in an attempt to stop their species from being decimated by voyageurs, with help from progressive Indian maiden Bemidji (Andrea Fairbanks) and Karl Marx (Corrie Zoll, who also wrote the book) disguised as Santa Claus.
The premise has much to recommend it — a show with a socialist bent staged to coincide with our largest annual orgy of consumerism is enough to draw contrarians out of their crannies. Many of the songs, with lyrics by Dan Pinkerton and music by Marya Hart, are catchy little numbers. Cabaret seating and clever costumes by original director and choreographer Foxy Tann add to the infectious silliness. But too often, opportunities to slide in a bit more sophisticated humor are squandered in favor of yet another beaver punch line.
The listless love story between Bemidji and voyageur Jacques Brainerd (Maren Ward) is the weakest link, dragging down a pace set by moonlighting director Randy Reyes, who took over the reins at Mu Performing Arts last year. For all the relentless innuendo in the dialogue, the beavers' choreographed numbers are less sexy than dorky, but given extra pizazz by a five-member live band.
Two cast members consistently transcended the material: Ryan Patrick as conniving money-grubber Robert Blaine and Chase Burns as the object of Blaine's desire, starry-eyed naif Loring Park. Patrick puts a wicked spin on the "sweet transvestite" stereotype, while Burns assumes the persona of a young, gay Leo DiCaprio. Both ad-libbed and expertly played to the crowd.
Whether or not you see "Beaverdance," Bedlam's Lowertown space right on the Green Line across from Union Depot is a gem of a neighborhood gathering spot, serving food and drink during lunch as well. The entrance has been transformed into a sparkling "winter hall of wonders" that sets an immediate magical mood. The four-course, reasonably portioned dinner served before "Beaverdance" was a delight, offering a choice of cranberry-thyme chicken or tempeh with sweet potatoes and garlicky kale. And fittingly, the restroom signs read "Women/Trans/gender/blur."
Kristin Tillotson • 612-673-7046
Minnesota Sports Hall of Fame: A class-by-class list of all members
This retired journalist changed professional wrestling from Mankato
