While the envelope-pushing raunchfest "Invasion! The Musical" boasts but one auteur -- librettist-lyricist-director-actor Aaron Matijasic -- it rather resembles the latenight handiwork of a team of drunken frat boys trying to top each other's nominations for Ultimate Grossout between extended bong hits.
While the envelope-pushing raunchfest “Invasion! The Musical” boasts but one auteur — librettist-lyricist-director-actor Aaron Matijasic — it rather resembles the latenight handiwork of a team of drunken frat boys trying to top each other’s nominations for Ultimate Grossout between extended bong hits. Show has a clear target aud in those who take glee in random potshots at sacred cows, and for whom the absence of satirical point is the point.
Show purports to describe the 1952 arrival of an alien race in Tucker County, N.M., whose denizens, convinced that Doomsday is at hand, elect to throw off their conventional values and run amuck in a riot of depravity, mostly of the sexual variety.
The notion of ’50s America falling suddenly into ’60s and ’70s excess is a promising one, except no effort is made to establish or maintain period; the narrative never firmly establishes the aliens’ threat until way late; and the townsfolk are so lecherous and dissolute from word one that impending Armageddon couldn’t possibly turn them any wilder than they already are. Early on, for instance, the town rapist is introduced to sing of his fondness for eating aborted fetuses.
An effort to convey tuner’s full flavor might point to the reaction to aliens in town, “That’s as realistic as a 14-year-old black virgin,” repeated endlessly until one such virgin (actually a tall fellow in drag) arrives to announce in song that “It don’t count if you do it with Daddy.” Elsewhere, the main plot stops dead for a musical number about the toxic shock syndrome caused by the heroine’s use of a single tampon for five consecutive years. You are free to imagine the design of the cheerleader pom-poms therein employed.
Gilbert Gottfried’s “celebrity narration” consists of two taped messages.
In fairness, mention ought to be made of Billy Thompson’s several catchy melodies; a droll turn as a mad scientist from helmer Matijasic, who should’ve taken the time to bring other thesps to his level; and a fresh take on “Little Shop of Horrors'” Audrey in Kate Feld’s demonstration of pricelessly vacant naivete, with additional kudos for her yeoman effort to stay inside her two-piece farmgirl outfit, a top and short-shorts that Daisy Duke would deem too skimpy.
Overall air of hastily assembled Hasty Pudding show, including late cues, missed entrances and ominous-sounding offstage interactions between cast and props is probably deliberate. It might be noted that while it has no qualms about using juvenile diabetes as fodder for a gag, “Invasion! The Musical” is the only sophomoric laff fest in town that fails to take any jabs at George W. Bush — an oversight that will doubtless be corrected soon.