Banned in Boston, an act that could only guarantee more attention, Joseph Moncure March's 1928 poem "The Wild Party" presented a decidedly seamy slice of the times. The poet conjured up a roaring, whoring '20s, when the booze flowed as freely as the moral compasses.
March's narrative, centering around the edgy love/lust affair of two vaudevillians who decide to throw a big party in the rent-overdue flat, became something of a cult favorite.
It retained fervent admirers through the decades inspiring a movie in 1975 and, 25 years later, two unsuccessful musicals. One of those stage versions, Andrew Lippa's "The Wild Party" (he wrote the book, music and lyrics), had a brief off-Broadway run in early 2000 and earned its own fervent admirers.
The show makes a fitting season-opener for Iron Crow Theatre, self-described as "Baltimore's only queer theater," which has re-emerged after a year's hiatus spent rebuilding and retooling.
To my ears, Lippa's skills are more impressively and consistently displayed in his soaring oratorio "I Am Harvey Milk" (a work Baltimore should get to hear someday soon). But "The Wild Party" has its potent points.
The concept for Iron Crow's production, directed by company artistic director and CEO Sean Elias and presented at Theatre Project, pretty much dispenses with anything that smacks of the flapper era. It aims instead for "a dreamlike state, somewhere between sexual fantasy and nightmare."
The atmospheric, determinedly racy approach underlines the wild in "Wild Party." Saucy costumes by Baltimore burlesque artist Betty O'Hellno have a lot to do with this. (The outfits should be easily reusable for the company's next production, "The Rocky Horror Show," and could see duty again if the company has a "Cabaret" in its future).
Ryan Haase's moody set, finely shaded by lighting designer Janine Vreatt, puts an effective slant on things.
What all of the visuals can't do is disguise the one-note nature of the piece, which makes clear from the onset that all will not go well with these motley, mostly unappealing characters. It's hard to get all that interested in their fate.
This staging doesn't really add much in the way of layers that might intensify the experience or make it more nuanced. There's so much bump and grind going on, background and foreground, that all the would-be sexiness at this party soon looks more forced and perfunctory than daring.
Still, the large cast gets into the spirit of things with sufficient flair and, for the most part, puts across Lippa's jazzy, driving score. (Lippa added and subtracted songs for a presentation by the New York City Center's Encores series during the summer of 2015. Iron Crow offers the original version.)
As Queenie — "Her age stood still, and she danced twice a day in vaudeville" … "she liked her lovers violent and vicious" — Allison Bradbury gives a persuasive portrayal. Too bad she mostly screams her way through the songs. When she reins the voice in, her singing is very effective.
The role of Queenie's principal squeeze, Burrs, makes a tight fit for Justin Mazzella. His acting and vocals hit the spot, bringing out the man's conceits and contradictions, as well as the trace of sincerity shimmering beneath the brutishness.
Sylvern Groomes Jr. is rather soft-spoken as Black, the party guest who unexpectedly and unstoppably comes between Queenie and Burrs, with tragic results. But he sings with considerable warmth and power. As Kate, who arrives with Black and promptly notices Burrs, Jessica Bennett hits the spot — musically and dramatically.
A particularly droll character in the assemblage is the frustrated lesbian Madelaine True, who also gets one of the show's best numbers, "An Old Fashioned Love Story." Valerie Holt needs to give the part a little more spice.
The score gets a smooth, snappy boost from music director Ben Shaver and a small combo placed at the rear of the seating area.
If you go
"The Wild Party" runs through Oct. 9 at Theatre Project, 45 W. Preston St. Tickets are $15 to $25. Call 443-637-2769, or go to ironcrowtheatre.org.