The musical adaptation of the film Dirty Rotten
Scoundrels, currently running at Broadway Rose, promises no
improvements on the source material—instead, the staged version
bolsters the irreverence of the original with a full lineup of rompy
musical numbers. The result preserves much of the humor of the 1988
Steve Martin vehicle, but swaddles its genuine charm in a few musical
numbers too many.
Globetrotting conman Lawrence Jameson (Leif Norby) boils down his MO
in the show’s opening number, “Give Them What They Want,” explaining
how he’s made a successful career as a swindler by playing the role of
a charming, wounded mystery man—and providing rich women an
opportunity to make their own lives more interesting by helping him
out. When he teams up with aspiring con artist Freddy Benson (Wade
Willis), the two develop a relationship that’s both cooperative and
competitive—in the surprisingly coarse and completely hilarious
number “All About Ruprecht,” they work together to convince a
love-struck heiress that Freddy is Lawrence’s creepy, sexually unhinged
brother. When their relationship tips into outright hostility, however,
they make a bet on who can successfully swindle a wealthy soap heiress
out of her $50,000 fortune.
On the whole, Broadway Rose does a fine job with the
production—actors Leif Norby and Wade Willis are well paired;
Norby is tall and cheesily suave, Willis appropriately shifty. As the
heiress/love interest, Lindsay Michelet proves a vivid comedic actress,
doing a guileless impersonation of a wide-eyed Disney heroine.
Eyan Candini’s costumes deserve note: They’re sexy and fun and
absolutely appropriate to a show that wholeheartedly embraces its silly
side. The script, too, is surprisingly bawdy, considering the
demographic suburban musicals usually attract; I’d assumed boner jokes
were the province of my generation, but the giggling bluehairs during a
recent Sunday afternoon disproved that ageist assumption.
Now, diminished attention spans probably actually are the
province of my generation, but at three hours, the show is just too
long—an entire subplot about an unhappy American divorcee could
easily have been excised, giving perfectly pitched scenes (like the
high-kicking “Oklahoma”) room to breathe. The show simply doesn’t have
enough meat to sustain its runtime; even the most well-calibrated
spectacle begins to wear after the second hour or so.