‘Cannibal! The Musical!’ deserves an open-ended run

They say cultural taste is the great divider, and I don't think I could trust anyone who didn't like "Cannibal! The Musical."

Insurgo Theater's remounting of director John Beane's adaptation of Trey Parker's 1996 screenplay is a "South Park"-ish account of the travails of accused late-1800s man-eater Alfred Packer. There are lots of human limbs torn apart and devoured onstage and "body fluids" that have a habit of making contact with the first three rows of the audience. How can a normal person not enjoy himself?

The film's producers have an unusual setup for those who want to perform the material as a stage show: They send the playhouse the screenplay, and the playhouse folk are welcomed to adapt it as they see fit.

Beane is a good fit for Parker's skillfully sophomoric mindset. The chronicle of a Colorado scouting party battling the elements serves as a backdrop for nearly two hours of musical parody, stage-convention spoofs, cultural jokes and grizzly visuals. It's enough to make you wonder what's happened to the American musical.

Beane makes clever use of the small (but surprisingly elegant) Stage Door Theater. Actors frequently wander throughout the house, establishing a humorous rapport with the audience.

The 18-member cast makes for a pleasantly insane ensemble. Sandy Stein in particular frequently reinvents himself with a multitude of characters. His psychotic presence as an Asian-looking and sounding English-speaking Indian chief, complete with samurai sword, tepee, Walkman and Chinese take-out cartons, is worthy of a spot in the Vegas hall of fame.

Marko Westwood's choreography is exaggerated enough to allow us to enjoy its tongue-in-cheek quality, and yet so solidly grounded in situation that it never becomes goofy.

Beane, though, seems at times to have become too aware of the laughs. The actors are funniest when they play dead-serious needs. The evening feels a tad long thanks to a 15-minute prologue begging to be cut. And some of the cast members are not as strong in vocal and/or acting skills as one might hope.

It was also disappointing to see, on the prominent marquee, the words "Shear Madness" -- the former name of the playhouse and the title of a show that closed there four weeks ago. Stage Door Theatre is sabotaging itself with that kind of sloppy marketing. And this production -- especially after (if) it tightens up a bit -- deserves every chance for a successful, open-ended run. Vegas is the perfect spot for this beautiful salute to nonsense.

Anthony Del Valle can be reached at DelValle@aol.com. You can write him c/o Las Vegas Review-Journal, P.O. Box 70, Las Vegas, NV 89125.