Over two thou years of comedic tradition (the xx-one extant comedies of Roman playwright Plautus, no less!) feed into the plot of A Funny Matter Happened on the Way to the Forum. Plus, it draws on the talents of an A-listing of twentieth-century Broadway theater creators, including Stephen Sondheim, Hal Prince, and Jerome Robbins, not to mention its writers Burt Shevelove and Larry Gelbart. Add in the unerring comedic instincts of manager/choreographer Ted Pappas and actor Jimmy Kieffer (as the wily and desperate slave Pseudolus) and the cartoonish scenic and costume designs (James Noone and Martha Bromelmeier, reprising a pattern by Tony Walton), and you have a show that is almost guaranteed to brand you express joy.

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The Company (Jimmy Kieffer as Pseudolus, Center). Photo Michael Henninger, courtesy Pittsburgh Public Theater.

I'one thousand not going to carp to get into the plot of this musical, because it'south the plot of near every one-act you've ever seen all rolled into i: indeed, ane fashion to describe this musical would be to say that it takes up all the familiar grapheme types and farcical situations of comedy and commedia dell'arte, adds the spirit of the American musical theater song and dance idiom, shakes vigorously, and produces a frothy cocktail of merriment and confusion.

The Public's production is beautifully executed, anchored past Kieffer (who did a similarly convincing turn as the servant in A Servant to Two Masters) and augmented by delightfully zany performances from a cast that includes Gavan Pamer every bit the anxious (and aptly named) Hysterium, Jeff Howell as the procurer Marcus Lycus, Ruth Gotschall as the harridan Domina, Stephen DeRosa every bit her beaten husband Senex, Allan Snyder every bit the braggart soldier Miles Gloriosus, and James Fitzgerald as the daffy elderly Erronius. Rounding out the cast are the comic lovers Jamen Nanthakumar (Hero) and silver-voiced Mary Elizabeth Drake (Philia); iii agile Proteans (Jonathan Blake Flemings, Andrew Footstep, and Marking Tinkey) who serve equally all of the supernumeraries needed for the action, and a bevy of scantily-clad courtesans who bump and grind their way through the story (these are, in alphabetical order: Elyse Collier, Brooke Lacy, Stephanie Maloney, Jessica Walker, Andrea Weinzierl, and Monica Woods).

Every aspect of the production is top notch, from the first-rate acting and singing, to the sure-handed staging and choreography, to the impressive scenic blueprint (which got a round of applause at the reveal the dark I saw the show), to the bright, graphic symbol-defining lighting (Kirk Bookman), to the crisp and crystally clear orchestra (under F. Wade Russo's direction, with audio design by Zach Moore). So: if all you want to know is whether this staple of the American musical theater canon is well produced, you should probably stop reading here. Seriously, but look at the flick below and end.

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Front row, L to R: Elyse Collier, Jessica Walker, Andrea Weinzierl, Brooke Lacy, Monica Woods. Dorsum row, L to R: Andrew Step, Allan Snyder, and Marker Tinkey. Photograph Michael Henninger, courtesy Pittsburgh Public Theater.

Considering, alas, I'm lamentable to say that I am going to exist that killjoy viewer who – while I won't say I didn't relish the show, or that I didn't laugh – found it actually difficult to fully board its train. Information technology is, later all, a musical one-act whose sexual and racial politics are fifty (if non 2 thousand) years behind the times. While I know that much of the intention is to satirize and transport up the attitudes and behaviors that the characters display, nonetheless information technology's pretty difficult not to see trivial more than a replication and reification of patriarchal scopic regimes in (to accept the about glaring example) the Vegas-showgirl costumes and high-kick, butt-waggle trip the light fantastic moves of the long-limbed courtesans as they strut their stuff for sale. Funny Thing… reveals its retrograde gender politics in other places as well: in the overwhelmingly more negative "comic" traits ascribed to the female characters than the male characters; in lyrics in which we are invited to snicker at Philia, who is dumber than a doornail simply "happy to be lovely," or at the idea that Miles Gloriosus has "no time to lose" because in that location are "women to abuse"; and in the uncritical uptake of the play's tired use of cross-dressing and homophobia to generate laughs.

Equally egregious is the lack of diversity in casting: in that location are but three non-white actors in the 19-member ensemble, only ane of whom (Nanthakumar) has a prominent speaking and singing office. I appreciate that creative director Ted Pappas, in his last yr at the Public, might wish to indulge in a trip down retentiveness lane. Just the lack of diversity on stage, coupled with the testify'south treatment of women equally literally nothing other than objects of male person desire, reads, to this viewer at least, less like nostalgia and more than like a head-in-the-sand retreat from our nowadays socio-political moment.