I expected “The Book of Mormon” to be nothing short of a revelation. After all, this is a musical tailor-made for me: someone who doesn’t particularly like musicals. It comes from the creators of “South Park,” makes numerous allusions to “The Lion King” and features a character named General Butt-F—ing-Naked. It practically screamed: “Rudi will love this.”
So why did I leave the Kennedy Center on Saturday night feeling somewhat let down? It’s not that I didn’t like the show — the songs are catchy, the performances are great, and it made me laugh plenty. Yet it all felt like a watered-down version of what Trey Parker and Matt Stone are capable of.
I wanted more stuff like the pair’s pre-recorded narration at the start of each act. I wanted something as smart and silly as the song from the “South Park” episode “All About Mormons,” in which the story of Joseph Smith is juxtaposed by a chorus that repeats: “Dumb, dumb, dumb, dumb dumb.”
My girlfriend was hoping the show would turn me into a musical convert. If anything, it made me realize that if these guys can’t get me to love a Broadway musical, maybe no one can.