Theo Maske is incensed that his wife, Louise, lost her underpants, while attending a parade for the King. They fell around her ankles. Of course, it’s an unfortunate fluke, but Herr Maske disparages Louise, for bringing shame upon him, and their household. And the implied stigma of her moral turpitude. Louise assures him this supposed scandal will pass quickly. Next, Frank Versati, a lofty (if overblown) poet arrives, asking for the room to rent. After that, a barber named Benjamin, a painfully obsequious barber. And after that, a virulent, atomic buzzkill called Klingelhoff. It doesn’t take much time before actual intentions are revealed. Louise’s friend Gertrude goes loopy with the salacious possibilities, swooning and purring. She offers to make playful, alluring panties for Louise.
So is satire the art of delivering wildly improbable, ridiculous behavior with a straight face? If so, Steve Martin’s The Underpants is a prime example. Nothing wrong with that. Dressing a rhino in a chapel dress is a theatrical tradition that probably started with Aristophanes. Set in Dusseldorf in 1910, you might say The Underpants is a spoof on the nature of sexual audacity. Overt and concealed. Confided and confessed.
You could also say it’s about misogyny. How men project raging, libidinous impulses on women, rather than owning accountability. (Hey God! The woman you sent tempted me. It’s on her.) The irony is the antiquated values that still hold up today. The Underpants transpires in the early twentieth century. Louise, Gertrude and Benjamin resemble Theda Bara, The Gibson Girl and Buster Keaton. Cultural ions over a century old. These painstaking cues hit the mark. While we can laugh at the backward buffoonery, the over-the-top caricature, perhaps our own, 21st Century boxers have hit the ground.
Director Janette Oswald and this seasoned, capable cast, deserve accolades for the meticulous and bravura audacity this unorthodox and remarkable comedy demands. There’s a kind of twisted logic, a toppling of expectations. Keen manipulation of the grotesque that lurks behind the plot, messing with our minds. The Underpants seems overblown, and yet, the ending is quiet and subversive as an Anarchist nun. Perhaps it’s meant to suggest a sea change. The cunning of Underpants looms like shadows in Caligari’s Cabinet. But it’s scrumptious medicine. The witty and merciless gags come thick and fast, but paced for maximum effect. The explosive laughs, the chuckles, the giggles are beyond our control, and that’s just as it should be.
Rover Dramawerks presents its Underpants, playing August 4tth-20th, 2022. Cox Playhouse. 1517 H. Avenue, Plano, Texas, 75074. 972-849-0358. roverdramawerks.com