Book: Will Cavedo & Andrew Hobgood; Score: Julie Nichols and Hobgood. At: The Den Theatre, 1333 N. Milwaukee Ave. Tickets: www.thenewcolony.org; $20-$25. Runs through Feb. 22
The New Colony may call Plastic Revolution a world premiere, but it's actually a thoroughly revised version of the company's 2009 show Tupperware: An American Musical Fable. And while Plastic Revolution is a definite improvement over its predecessor, it's still far from perfect.
Like its previous incarnation, Plastic Revolution focuses on the newly widowed Delores Clarke ( Sasha Smith ), who feels disconnected to her 1950s suburban existence in Kissimmee, Fla. But Clarke is taken under the wing of ambitious Tupperware saleswoman Brownie Wise ( Cassie Thompson ), who pioneered the company's system of "home party sales." In fact, the real-life Wise was so successful that she convinced the Tupperware top brass to remove their products from retail stores and to sell them exclusively via a largely women's sales force long before the party sales division was moved to Florida.
But Wise and Clarke arouse suspicions from the neighborhood's more established suburban ladies, who are under the controlling thumb of Lilah Johnstonton ( played in drag by Danny Taylor ). Johnstonton sees the ease and convenience of Tupperware as a threat to her enforced homemaking life, so battle commences to win over the other wives named Kitty Toots ( Daeshawna Cook ), Gertie Minor ( Elise Mayfield ) and Gladys Carroll ( Lizzie Schwarzrock ).
This time around, the show's authors and director Evan Linder have moved the musical's tone more firmly into camp territory, which gives Plastic Revolution a more consistent storytelling approach than before ( still, there is one odd earnest interaction between Clarke and her late husband played by Joshua R. Bartlett ). Yet for anyone who has seen the wonderful 2005 American Experience documentary Tupperware! on PBS, the breadth of Plastic Revolution will still come off as fairly narrow and strangely dismissive with its arguably mocking tone toward the women who became business savvy via selling Tupperware.
Some might also question the colorblind casting of Plastic Revolution, which is set firmly in the 1950s before much societal progress made through the civil-rights movement. Surely, the appearances-conscious Johnstonton wouldn't dare live in a desegregated neighborhood. But then again, Johnstonton is a drag role and could be argued as a casting comment on how women's roles are often rigidly enforced by men, so one shouldn't take the historical lapses in Plastic Revolution too seriously.
Despite the quibbles about the plotting and storytelling approaches of Plastic Revolution, what can't be denied is its playful sense of fun and winking camp in all of the fine performances as the characters debate what roles women should be allowed to play in American society. Plastic Revolution is certainly new and improved from before and sure to inspire plenty of laughs. But the questions about the show's ingredients are still up for debate.
