'Church Basement' lady swings for comic gold with new show 'Plowin' Through'

One of the more famous bits in Twin Cities musical comedy history involves Greta Grosch, menopause and a freezer.

Playing good-natured farm wife Mavis as she is going through a change of life in the "Church Basement Ladies" in 2005, Grosch worked her 5-foot-11-inch frame into and out of the cooling appliance, drawing guffaws as she sprawled over the freezer before tucking her gangly limbs in.

Wendy Short Hays, who has choreographed "Church Basement Ladies" since the series began, had two words to describe the scene where the pastor helps Grosch get out of that freezer with her butt in the way — "comedy gold."

"Greta's not shy about using her lankiness and stature, which I love, being a tall person myself. And she's fearless, willing to try anything," Short Hays said.

Well, anything but a regular 9-to-5.

After graduating from Minnesota State University, Mankato with a bachelor's degree in theater, Grosch was doing her taxes for the first time when she had a lightbulb moment.

"I never want to have a job where I'd have to go to human resources and fill out paperwork," Grosch recalled. "You can make it in this business if you say yes to opportunities and keep your expenses low."

Adapted from Janet Letnes Martin's and Suzann Nelson's 1997 book "Growing Up Lutheran," the series centers on broad characters who keep things humming in a greater Minnesota church. The ladies deal with weddings, funerals and crazy ideas from pastors.

"We have these ladies at home in every church, synagogue and temple, and in every home at Thanksgiving, Christmas, you name it," said Martin. "They'll kick you out of the kitchen because they're managing things."

The Church Basement Ladies productions are popular, drawing more than 3 million people since 2005. The series' ninth iteration, "Plowin' Through," plays at Burnsville's Ames Center through Feb. 15.

"A lot of people brush that off and say, — yay, it's just a bunch of blue-haired retirees in the audience," said Short Hays. "Yes, we have to keep growing younger, diverse audiences and get folks in the theater but let's not forget those who created it for us."

Grosch is sometimes styled as the Carol Burnett of the Twin Cities because of her prodigious physical humor skills and the way she's able to ramp up the pressure in ordinary situations until they spill over into absurdity.

Her comic sensibility was formed because of her unique background. Born in Orange, Calif., Grosch grew up mostly abroad, including in Ethiopia and Papua New Guinea, where she went to high school.

"My parents were volunteer teachers working for the Lutheran Church," she said. "Everywhere we lived, I was always in choir."

Her mother taught music. Grosch didn't see much TV or films in her youth.

"The comedy I was exposed to came from family sitting around and laughing," she said. "Truth be told, that's the comedy that I'm most interested in — relational comedy, where you're reacting to stimuli, whether it's other people or a coffeepot."

Grosch got her start in the Twin Cities with a brief bit at Dudley Riggs' Brave New Workshop before landing a role in "Tony n' Tina's Wedding" at the former Hey City Theatre.

"She played the guitar and sang these comic bits. She was able to do these characters that are likable, even if they're irascible," Hey said.

The freezer in "Church Basement Ladies" has been used as different props since 2005, including as a coffin and even as a place to hide lasagna, prepared by a good-natured person but deemed unfit for human consumption.

Grosch has had a central place in all of it, and she hopes that audiences are feeling her big chick energy.

"Timing is such a big deal in comedy, and I get goosebumps trying to work out a comic bit," she said. "A lot of times you're swinging blindly like at a pinata, but when you hit it, it's electric."