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Though its title, and especially its emphatic punctuation, promise an absurd (if not absurdist) romp through the wacky world of Manhattan pest control, that's not exactly what the show delivers. At its heart, it's a story about two women pursuing freedom. Carly (Grace McLean) yearns to be released from the guilt she's felt for 25 years, ever since her mother died in a freak bedbug attack Carly is positive she could have prevented—and she's pursued a career in science with the sole intent of developing the chemicals that will wipe out the insects for good. Dionne Salon, the Canadian pop singer whose performance on Johnny Carson captivated Carly the night of her mother's death—is trapped in a loveless marriage to her emasculating manager (Danny Bolero), and she wants out. Their plotlines intertwine in numerous ways over the two-hour course of the show, now involving Carly's younger brother and lab assistant, Burt (Nicholas Park), who just happens to be a die-hard Dionne Salon fan, now focusing on Cimex (Chris Hall), the human-sized, metal-singer-styled king of the bedbugs who's (apparently) created by Carly's latest mix of noxious chemicals, and who has his own sights set on world domination. It all unfolds with the dark-tinged vivacity of a 1980s pre-post-apocalyptic horror flick and, indeed, as Cimex kidnaps Carly and makes her his queen and Burt and Dionne struggle to assert themselves in the falling-apart world above, you delve deeper into a world of postmodern Gothic terror with a wry, antenna-wriggling twist.
Adam Demerath's oddly realistic junkyard-sewer set, for example, does not mesh with the deadpan comedy with which McLean infuses Carly, and that performance in turn seems to belong in a show other than the one in which Park plays Burt as a rampantly stereotypical gay boy. Hall brings legitimate menace to Cimex (the costumes, designed by Philip Heckman, are particularly elaborate and kitschily charming for the bugs), but considering this is a Gremlin-meets-Labyrinth popcorn concoction of the first order, it's not quite clear how helpful—or even desirable—that degree of realism is. When I first encountered Bedbugs!!! at the 2008 New York Musical Theatre Festival, with a mostly different cast and under the helm of a different director, it was more cohesive and considerably funnier. This was due at least in part to markedly more camp, which, though hardly right for every show, helped unify everything into a single, believable (if admittedly eye-rolling) world. Without it, there's a deflated feel to just about everything, and enough unanswered questions to disrupt your good time, starting with the biggie: Why is Dionne Salon played by male actor Brian Charles Rooney? Though I can't provide a good answer for that this time around—what can I say, it made perfect sense in 2008—I'm happy to report that Rooney is the production's one unquestionable bull's-eye. A singer of dazzling technical control and unparalleled range, he effortlessly captures Dionne's vocal beauty, as kissed by a wonderfully bizarre accent, while never losing sight of the sensitive emotional interpretation she sees beneath the notes. But beyond that, he also pinpoints Dionne's desolation, presenting her as a crumpled flower unable to return to full bloom, someone in whom we can invest hopes for a better future and root for (something that's more difficult with the tougher Carly). Most important, he's so committed to every second that it's all howlingly funny and aligns into a complete, and credible, character as no one else quite manages. For everything to truly work, everyone, from Bartley on down, must be operating on Rooney's level so they may find the naturally hilarious soul that's locked within the premise. But as long as they're all parading through their own universes, Bedbugs!!! will lack the one thing it needs most: bite.
Bedbugs!!!
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