Playwright: music, book and lyrics by Bruce Arntson. At: Royal George Cabaret, 1641 N. Halsted St. Phone: 312-988-9000;$43.50-$49.50. Runs through: open run
Dwight Yoakam's guitars and Cadillacs notwithstanding, country music has always reflected rural values, long associated with intuitive wisdom and expressed in language tending to bewell, direct. When Gretchen Wilson croons, "I Don't Feel Like Lovin' You Today," there's unlikely to be any debating her theme.
After a 40-year career in Nashville, Bruce Arntson knows the uprides and downslides of his genre and the roster of tongue-in-cheek honkers rolled out for this roadhouse concert verité revel in a familiarity as affectionate as it is irreverent. Arnston himself plays Doyle Mayfield (who looks sorta like Glen Campbell), a one-time headliner with three failed marriages, two disgruntled singing partners and a history of substance abuse on his dossier. Jenny Littleton plays his current alliterative consort, Debbiea single mom taking classes at Smoky Mountain Community College while waitressing at a VFW hall, who hopes to elevate herself and her children (waiting in the car for mama to finish work) on the sagging shoulders of a legend past his prime.
Their first set covers such retro replicas as "Stock Car Love" and "Blue Stretch Pants" (a serenade to one-size-fits-all fashions), along with the Tammy Wynette-inspired "ABCs of Love" ("Your ETA is TBA, you M-I-C-K-E-Y-M-O-U-S-O-B") and a cheerful ditty entitled "Barefoot and Pregnant," which may be the most sexist song since Kinky Friedman's "Get Your Biscuits in The Oven And Your Buns Into Bed." Then, during the break before the second set (not an intermission, so stay in your seats) Doyle is hijacked by demon Jack and, after a trichomantic episode involving the ghost of his dominating daddya regionally-referential experience lost on us yankeesthe presentation gets friendlier, as the duo demonstrates the ecstasy-inducing powers of yodeling (on the bluegrass-tinged "Laura Lee") and scatting (with the mischievous "I Ain't No Homo, But You Sure Look Good To Me") before wrapping up with a bodacious "Fat Women In Trailers."
The hallmark of good parody is how closely it adheres to the conventions of its target. Sitting sober in an urban theater and attentive to every word, socially sensitive audiences might be unnerved by Doyle and Debbie's straightforward humor, but in an Old Style-soaked saloon on the Saturday night after payday, you could line-dance to "Whine Whine Twang Twang" without missing a step.