THEATER - "Paradise Lost"

Apparently, Death wears heels and suspenders and looks like Cabaret’s emcee. A snake didn’t tempt Eve, Lucifer’s hand puppet did, and all the trees in Eden danced and sang along. Angels and demons never fought, they modern danced­—oh, and they were all metrosexuals, too. Clearly, Paradise Lost is the biggest piece of religious camp since Godspell. The problem is, while one of the writers (and the director), Rob Seitelman, understands this, the other one, Benjamin Birney, seems to be making a serious play. No matter how they dress up the actors or stage the action, their lyrics never fit Birney’s swinging piano score: his music never fits the mood. It’s not bad enough to be funny, and it’s not funny enough to be good. Is Paradise Lost supposed to be over-the-top or straight? It’s not even gay: it’s as ambiguous as an angel’s sex (though not in Paradise Lost; sexual tension is rampant, and there used to be orgies in Heaven all the time).

The plot, as you may have guessed, loosely follows the novel, which in turn followed the Bible. There’s not much room for imagination, nor is this adaptation very creative, despite creating a female counterpart for Lucifer, named Sophia. No; everyone plays their parts as one-dimensionally as possible, like Beelzebub, who cackles and crawls across the floor, spitting and hissing. Adam and Eve remain wide-eyed and curious (even if Darryl Calmese, who plays Adam, has a lovely high baritone voice), even after they’ve eaten the forbidden fruit, and Lucifer, the richest character in the text, is apparently nothing more than “the Adversary” after all. Paul A. Schaefer, who plays this juicy part, is content just to vamp as the suave embodiment of evil, though it’s at least better than Patrick Ludt’s ridiculous portrayal of Death as a sadistic sideshow attraction. Then again, most of the actors play to the freak show; what else can they do in this mishmash of a show?

Well, they can sing. In fact, most of these actors can sing. It doesn’t do them much good when the music is out of synch with the lyrics, or when their voices pile on top of each other like an unappetizing pupu platter. What does it say for this pop opera musical that, despite hearing close to thirty “original” songs, I left the theater humming “Seasons of Love” under my breath? Again, they try to dress the whole thing up, but the songs are just text in a very strained harmony. I got excited when they stopped singing and Lucifer molested Eve in a dream set to a techno beat: at least that was something different.

An agnostic like me may just see things differently, but I can only say this next bit in a review of a religious play: please, for God’s sake, don’t see Paradise Lost.

Producer’s Club II (616 9th Avenue)
Tickets: $18.00 (212-868-4444)
Performances: Thursday-Saturday @ 8:00; Sunday @ 2:30