'Slug Bearers,' a Musical That Breaks the Mold

NEW YORK -- Where oh where might the American musical go next? Why, to a mythical place called Kayrol Island, a tropical backwater on which the natives are recruited for the not particularly arduous labor of transporting candy-bar-size lead weights on their shoulders, to be inserted into telephones and other modern conveniences.

You'd be correct in assuming that the subject of "The Slug Bearers of Kayrol Island" is itself of a practically weightless variety. But even the wispiest of conceits can reap offbeat rewards. In the maximally cool hands of librettist Ben Katchor and composer Mark Mulcahy, the show, at off-Broadway's Vineyard Theatre -- the birthplace of "Avenue Q" -- is served to an audience as a laconic dim sum of hip satiric rhythms.

Sometimes, the flatness of "The Slug Bearers" causes the piece to drift away from us in a rarefied cloud of self-consciousness. Yet Katchor and Mulcahy so cleverly and faithfully hew to the peculiar universe they establish that you're pulled along by the sheer force of imagination. And even at the times the musical wanders onto dry narrative plains, the wondrous, animated-movie scenery by Katchor, a graphic-novel author and illustrator, continues to envelop the proceedings in an air of childlike delight.

The slightly smug undercurrent in the musical has to do with a desire to poke fun at the paternalistic streak of American do-gooders, in the mentality that blithely surveys the world and unilaterally decides who and what is worthy of rescue. In the nutty precincts of "The Slug Bearers," the idealist-in-chief is a deep-pocketed New Yorker by the name of Rushower. As played by the sturdy Peter Friedman, the rich guy takes on impossibly arcane missions: In this case, the easing of the burdens of the Kayrol Islanders, who in point of fact seem to rather like the silly, steady work of bearing the tiny lead slugs -- and certainly don't feel the need to be saved.

The plot -- also having to do with Rushower's depressed daughter (Jody Flader), her hipster suitor (Bobby Steggert), a demonic industrialist (Stephen Lee Anderson) and a dreadlocked slug-bearer (Matt Pearson) who initiates the daughter into the island's earthier customs -- is a whimsical contrivance. It's built to support the eccentric links among the characters.

The hipster's literary obsession, for instance, revolves around exploring the "obscure poetry" in the instruction manuals for outdated small appliances. Mulcahy composes meandering, monotonic musical lines for the young man's song about his hobby. (Sample lyric: "Press the on-off button. Try not to force the can to rotate.")

Onto the set's lightweight, movable screens are projected Katchor's drawings of the pamphlets, as well as of charming illustrations of the city, Rushower's apartment and the faraway island.

The stripped-down, deadpan performances -- Flader's earnest ingenue and Pearson's lethargic islander are particularly enjoyable -- can catch conventionally minded musical lovers off guard. (In the tentative smatterings of applause between songs at the Vineyard, one got a barometer of how ambivalently audiences receive Bob McGrath's smoothly directed production.)

In the boundary-leaping orientation of "The Slug Bearers," as well as in the rousingly personal "Passing Strange" -- a musical by pop-rock songwriter Stew that has moved to Broadway after a well-received run downtown at the Public Theater (where I saw it) -- one also gets fresh reminders of how radically the contours of the musical can be reshaped for the talents of contemporary artists.

But in other instances, new off-Broadway musicals lose their way in the effort to manipulate existing formulas. In the case of "Next to Normal," receiving its premiere at Second Stage, some strains show whenever composer Tom Kitt and lyricist-librettist Brian Yorkey attempt to impose high-concept production numbers on what is essentially a small, moving story of a family coping with mental illness.

The production, directed by "Rent's" Michael Greif, concerns the efforts to treat the manic depression of a suburban mom (a compelling Alice Ripley), whose relationships with her husband (Brian d'Arcy James, in a beautifully controlled turn) and daughter (an excellent Jennifer Damiano) have been profoundly damaged. The mom's turmoil is chiefly the fallout from a disastrous event involving the fate of her son (Aaron Tveit, in a fine performance, too). Most of the musical's best material springs from how the father and daughter react to the wild swings in her condition.

"Next to Normal," though, does not sufficiently trust a simple, domestic reality. Along with some solid rock ballads, Kitt and Yorkey create hokey numbers that compromise the show's emotional honesty. One, set in a Costco, documents in exaggeratedly theatrical fashion the mom's breakdown. Worse is the number at the end of the first act, in which Ripley is strapped to a bed, the music cranks up and the cast breaks into, yes, a "Rocky Horror"-style song about electroshock therapy.

You shift uneasily in your seat as the shrink strips off his lab coat to reveal the tight-fitting get-up of a rocker dude. And then, watching Ripley's eyes bulge as each jolt is delivered, you are reminded that even on inventive stages, there remain some things that do not say "show tune!"

The Slug Bearers of Kayrol Island, music by Mark Mulcahy, libretto and drawings by Ben Katchor. Directed by Bob McGrath. Set and projection design, Jim Findlay and Jeff Sugg; costumes, Mattie Ullrich; lighting, Russell H. Champa; sound, David Arnold and Brett Jarvis; musical direction, Erik James; choreography, John Carrafa. With Tom Riis Farrell, Will Swenson. Through March 16 at Vineyard Theatre, 108 E. 15th St., New York. Call 212-353-0303 or visit http://www.vineyardtheatre.org.

Next to Normal, music by Tom Kitt, book and lyrics by Brian Yorkey. Directed by Michael Greif. Musical staging, Sergio Trujillo; set, Mark Wendland; costumes, Jeff Mahshie; lighting, Kevin Adams; sound, Brian Ronan; musical director, Mary-Mitchell Campbell. With Asa Somers, Adam Chanler Berat. Through March 16 at Second Stage Theatre, 307 W. 43rd St., New York. Call 212-246-4422 or visit http://www.2ndstage.com.