Welcome to Armadillo Acres, North Florida’s most exclusive manufactured housing community. Meet Jeannie (Elizabeth Reber), who has developed a severe case of agoraphobia. Her husband Norbert (Nolan Mecham), frustrated with having a wife who won’t go outside even when tempted with Ice Capades tickets (can you believe it?), has taken to spending his nights at the local strip club, where he becomes smitten with exotic dancer Pippi (Rana Kangas-Kent).
Pippi and Norbert discover a common bond when she vents out frustration about her profession. "Do you have any idea what it’s like," she complains, "to make your living by collecting dollar bill after dollar bill after dollar bill?" — "Yes", he replies, "I’m a toll collector." But Pippi’s ex-boyfriend Duke (Kalin Mitchell), fueled by magic marker fumes, will go to any lengths to win her back.
Each cast member has an opportunity to give a star performance. Steph Peek, Courtney McAllister and Sydnee Ortiz are outstanding as a singing trio of trailer park neighbors who narrate the proceedings. Their harmonies (musically directed to precision by Lynne Smith) are tight, fluid and completely engaging. The “Girls” play all the extra characters — from strippers to food court employees. As the dim-witted one of the trio, Pickles (Ortiz) is a first-order clown with an endearingly flexible face. Lin (McAllister) throws out one-liners with Johnny Carson-like precision ("My name’s Lin. My real name’s Linoleum ’cause my mother gave birth to me on the kitchen floor."); and Betty (Peek) has that warm, welcoming earth-mother quality with an extra shot of bawdiness.
Paul Zill’s set is appropriately loaded with tacky pink and blue pastels. Robin Banks’ costume design is full of fun creations that are hilariously over the top; and choreographer Stacey Loew moves the characters around the stage in perfect form with styles ranging from the 1940s to the disco era and beyond, culminating with the stirring (pun intended) “toilet brush” dance.
Thankfully, the authors never look down on the characters. The trailer park folks may seem uneducated and a bit lazy at times, but they’re depicted as generally sincere, loveable people.
I find myself happily reliving the days when I actually lived in a trailer park down in Brevard County, Florida. Some may call it a guilty pleasure, but if lovin’ The Great American Trailer Park Musical is wrong, then I don’t wanna be right.
Benicia Old Town Theatre Group’s Bawdy Musical Comedy
