Redmoon’s current show begs the question: Is there such a thing as too much spectacle? What ever happened to quiet shows like “Salao—the worst kind of unlucky, ” in which the company’s creative efforts felt not only unusual, but truly meaningful? In any case, “The Princess Club,” created and co-directed by Jim Lasko with cast member Vanessa Stalling, is an all-theme affair. Too often it verges on the boring. A riff on princess obsessions—from the Barbie-Cinderella fixation to the trashy modern-day Britney/Lindsay sexpot princess—the show plays out almost entirely without words. A quintet of princess wannabes, dressed in bedraggled lingerie, reenact fairytales. In between, they engage in nightclub shenanigans—drinking, smoking, drugging, falling all over the place in a stupor. These scenes have no context or point. “Oh my God, you guys,” is one of the few intelligible phrases uttered, along with “Seriously!” which becomes “Sarah-ously.” Funny. But empty. Wandering through the basement of an old puppet theater, these living dolls look like Brooke Shields in “Pretty Baby”—whore-girls with curls and ruffles. (The design is impeccable, as always.) Eventually their make-believe hijinks become weirdly scatological—to point out, I suppose, that princesses poop just like everyone else. Other than that, I’m not sure what this show is saying, exactly. The princess complex is very real, but its influence on female identity is not examined so much as represented. Let’s face it: Perez Hilton, Chelsea Handler and “The Hills” girls probe deeper on this subject—and prove to be far more entertaining. (Nina Metz)
At Redmoon Central, 1463 W. Hubbard, (312)850-8440 ex. 111. This production is now closed.