02-27-2006 – Variety – Mission to Mercury

By Toby Zinman

(MANDELL THEATER, 130 SEATS, $25 TOP)

PHILADELPHIA A Pig Iron Theater Company presentation of a musical in one act, created and conceived by the company and ensemble. Directed by Dan Rothenberg. Sets, Hiroshi Iwasaki, Gabriel Quinn Bauriedel; costumes, David R. Gammons, Millie Hiibel; lighting; James Clotfelder; sound, Nick Kourtides; production stage manager, Carol Laratonda. Opened, reviewed Feb. 17, 2006. Running time: 1 HOUR.

With: Gabriel Quinn Bauriedel, Dito van Reigersberg, Geoff Sobelle, James Sugg, Christy Parker, Sarah Dohery, Bradford Trojan.

Pig Iron’s homage to Brit-rock band Queen, “Mission to Mercury,” began as a show about techies running sound for a band, and became what the Philly experimental company is billing as a “cabaret ballet” based on the songs of Freddie Mercury and Brian May. Unlike the world of glam rock and screaming fans, this show is small and funny, full of sweet sounds and haunting images. Without parody and without impersonation, they make the songs their own, transforming them into little unplugged musical tableaux, and demonstrating again that the Pig Iron ensemble is full of surprises.

We enter through the backstage set-building shop of the Mandell Theater. The seats are an improvised auditorium; there is much thumping and drilling and muttering from under the newly built wooden floor. Two beleaguered stagehands (Geoff Sobelle, Gabriel Quinn Bauriedel) appear, shlepping music stands, amps, huge bundles of orange cable and a bunch of other stuff, all with hilarious ineptitude and sotto voce complaints.

From a storage pit, they haul two zombies (Bradford Trojan, Dito van Reigersberg) dressed in black rocker gear, stick mikes in their hands and watch them sing “Killer Queen,” while a groupie (Sarah Dohery) clings to their legs.

Suddenly, the plastic sheeting that has been the upstage wall falls, revealing the empty theater. James Sugg and his accordion appear surreally in a doorway, singing — his voice is thrillingly melodic — and he and Dohery sing “Under Pressure” while the two guys scurry around setting up more equipment.

Each of the performers will slide from song to song, style to style, costume to costume — straw boaters, ’50s prom dresses, leopard-print underwear — and character to character, until they are united in touching four-part harmony, singing “Prophet Song” a capella while we watch the stagehands reunited in sweet relief.

Before that, there is much to wonder at: Dohery and Christy Parker sitting in the vacant theater opposite our seats, singing “Radio Gaga,” and Sobelle and Parker, accompanied by Sugg, singing “39,” creating a tiny, moving study in unfulfilled longing (“Don’t you hear me call though you’re many years away”). The most eye-widening moment comes when Dohery, suspended from a hook, twirls slowly in the air, reprising “Under Pressure.”

Site-specific and fairly weird, lacking a coherent narrative, “Mission to Mercury” is a minor work. The time we spend in the dark listening to the stagehands’ bumbling and walkie-talkie frenzy is funny but overlong, and the company is leaning heavily on its charm and loyal following. But Pig Iron has once again demonstrated its talent for choreographing chaos and delighting audiences.