Sweet parody The Gaslight Theater offers a satire of electoral politics BY MEGAN GRUMBLING
	of thee i sing Book by George S. Kaufman and Morrie Ryskind, music by George Gershwin, lyrics by Ira Gershwin. Directed by Lynette Miller; musical direction by Marcia Gallagher. With Peter Duffy, Teresa Curley Beaudoin, Frank Omar, Anne Corriveau, and Jim Gill. Produced by Gaslight Theater at Hallowell City Hall, through July 3. Call (207) 626 -3698.

In an critical, exhausting election year in which the Democratic candidate’s main selling point has more to do with who he isn’t than who he is, there’s no small amount of catharsis to be had in jokes on America’s electoral buffoonery. Feisty satire is this nation’s best prophylactic against political anomie, and so in producing Of Thee I Sing — a Depression-era, Pulitzer Prize-winning musical comedy with the music and lyrics of the Gershwin brothers — the Gaslight Theater in Hallowell offers not just uproarious theater but a significant public mental-health service. Could someone from Health and Human Services please give them a grant?

John P. Wintergreen (young, charismatic Peter Duffy) is a candidate in need of a winning platform, and so his political team, lusting after the voters’ hearts and minds, poll the campaign headquarters’ chambermaid: After money, they ask, what is her greatest concern? Her answer — love — provides Wintergreen’s cronies the seed of their political strategy; their bachelor candidate needs romance, a paramour, and a campaign-long courtship to wing him to the White House. As is common knowledge these days, the best way to choose a mate is through a flashy and well-publicized national contest, and so Wintergreen’s political team assembles the most beautiful ladies of the land, one per state, for a pageant in Atlantic City. The winner, as chosen by the campaign committee, will become Candidate Wintergreen’s bride (second place gets a season pass to Coney Island).

But a nervous Wintergreen screws things up, naturally, by falling in love with campaign aide Mary Turner (the charming and stalwart Teresa Curley Beaudoin) instead. By defiantly choosing Mary over his committee’s choice (the sultry Louisiana belle Diana Devereaux, played by Anne Corriveau, who is excellent and versatile in a demanding comic role), he shakes up his voter base and causes an international scandal. The electable love between Wintergreen and Mary still wins them the election, but soon after the wedding/inauguration, Wintergreen is in for an impeachment trial, the attention of the Supreme Court, and the amusingly timeless ire of France. His Vice President (the superb, simpering Frank Omar), is little help, as he already has his hands full learning about how the Senate works and where it can be found.

In Of Thee I Sing, shrewd allusions and jabs — to P.T. Barnum, agricultural policies, the Constitution, Paul Revere’s horse — flow as liberally as the booze in the politicians’ flasks, and writers George S. Kaufman and Morrie Ryskind and lyricist Ira Gershwin roast America’s electoral shenanigans with an unfailing eye for the madcap. And although it was written during the Depression, its humor and entertainment value (as director Lynette Miller remarks in her program notes) aren’t escapist — they’re barbed, wise, and irreverent, always mindful of the world outside the proscenium. It’s also as good-humored as it is hilarious, the satire of an era when political humor didn’t have to be venomous or obscene, just sharp and well crafted. Evident in the play’s infectious repartee, also, is a clear affection for the American staples of ingenuity, mischief, and the con, a love of this nation’s vigorous tradition of the political lampoon. As Miller rightly states, "what a wonderful thing it is to live in a country where poking fun at those in power is a growth industry."

That a small community theater should choose such a play and perform it with such enthusiasm and musical competence — and to a sold-out house with a lengthy waiting list on the night I attended — is a reassuring gift, indeed. Under the remarkable direction of Miller and Marcia Gallagher, the Gaslight Theater delivers the play’s brisk pace, banter, and melodies with energy, intelligence, and evident glee. The Gaslight demonstrates everything that’s great about community theater, including a motley union of ages and talents (one actor trained in Rome, some not yet in high school) and a grassroots determination to produce something with common cultural resonance. This intimacy adds something to the production that can’t be bought by any number of Equity actors, a dynamic that’s even — dare I say it? — democratic, in a small-d kind of way.

More than 70 years old now, Of Thee I Sing has aged better than even its creators could have dreamed. Its satire now seems to have anticipated quite a collage of American political and cultural phenomena: popular swooning over the Camelot of the young Kennedys, the rise of Family Values politics, the infamous Clinton saga, and reality television/television reality, to name a few. And could Kaufman and Ryskind have imagined why a future audience might laugh with a little too much force upon hearing the Supreme Court Justices declare that they will decide the sex of the Wintergreens’ child?

Our own season of electoral circuses looms, and I need say no more about that. But in the meantime, I can prescribe no greater tonic for the election-year blues than a trip up to Hallowell for a pint of Back Room Bitter at the Liberal Cup and the exuberant, subversive song and dance that the Gaslight Theater makes of America’s electoral foibles. In the truest and best sense of the song, this is the stuff worth singing about.

Megan Grumbling can be reached at mgrumbling@hotmail.com