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It was more than 20 years ago that Al Capp, the famous cartoon artist, said he was tired of going to the studio. After more than 40 years of drawing, he ended “Li’l Abner,” the cartoon-page saga of a beefy hillbilly, his tonic-pouring Ma Yokum, his fleet-footed pursuer Daisy Mae, and all the backwoods shenanigans of Dogpatch, U.S.A.
The celebrated comic strip began in 1934 as a way to take people’s minds off the Depression. At first, Capp offended the right, but years later, the cartoonist’s attacks on liberals put him in bad standing with the left. By the time he gave the kickapoo to Dogpatch and all its gruff residents, the strip, which in its heyday reached 45 million readers, had grown downright cynical.
The 1956 musical “Li’l Abner” — written by Norman Panama and Frank Melvin with lyrics and music by Johnny Mercer and Gene de Paul — has its own anomalous history. In final performances next weekend at the Grand Auditorium in Ellsworth, the show originally opened to mixed critical reaction on Broadway, and then swiftly became a darling among audiences. It ended up being nominated for three Tony Awards, winning two, and running for nearly 700 performances.
While “Li’l Abner” is still one of the most performed musicals on college campuses, it simply doesn’t have the appeal of other hits written in the late 1950s, such as “Gypsy,” “The Music Man,” and “West Side Story.” The plot, which is downright creepy in places, whirls around a government plan to evacuate Dogpatch to become a nuclear testing site. The residents are so backward that they are thrilled the backwater town has been chosen as “the most unnecessary place in the U.S.A.” This is supposed to have a certain naive charm to it.
Mammy Yokum finally puts her foot down and demands the town find a way to prove its uniqueness to the Feds. Her Yokumberry Tonic, which turns men into beefcakes but kills their sex drive, becomes the hot commodity. Once the commerical-minded bigwigs and some questionable scientists in Washington get involved, the plot is off and running almost as fast as the Dogpatch women who race each year on Sadie Hawkins Day to try to trap a Dogpatch man to marry.
That’s just the way life goes in Dogpatch, where men and women, city and country, good and evil are pitted against each other as if at a Saturday night hootenanny. It takes something like a diabolical tonic or a smarmy green-suited guy with mesmerizing powers to have any of it make sense. And if not for some snazzy musical numbers, why you might be tempted to say: Go ahead and blow Dogpatch off the musical map.
Astonishingly, director Ken Stack shows no sign of fear in the face of a show that could have been called dated before it was written. He dishes out a colorful and lively show that is part “Beans of Egypt, Maine,” part “Hee Haw” and a big load of cornball. With the help of knee-slapping choreography from Judy Brookings, zany outfits by Linda F. Grindle and jocular music direction from Steve Norris, Stack revisits Dogpatch with a doofus kind of dignity. If-n you’re thinking otherwise, rest assured: That there’s a compliment.
You may find yourself yawning along with the lazed characters of Dogpatch, but you won’t be yawning AT them. The “Li’l Abner” cast members have the blush of excitement shining forth from their happy faces. They realize the only way to make this show work is to throw caution to the wind and go native. With chipper scrappiness, they stomp and harrumph and hoot and holler.
Li’l Abner is surely the densest of all leading men but despite his honking goofiness, Anthony Pizzuto makes the guy likable — and not just because Pizzuto has a handsome voice. Heather Astbury’s Daisy Mae brings her own lovely voice to the role. But the real charmer here is Ben Layman, as Marryin’ Sam. Layman has a fresh-faced, sweet-voiced quality to his stage work, and he turns it up bright, particularly in the show’s most memorable and toe-tapping tune, “Jubilation T. Cornpone.”
Rick Bagley as the Mayor, David Closson as General Bullmoose, Joyce Newkirk as Appassionata von Climax, Jerry Kaufman as Earthquake McGoon and Mica Sargent as Evil Eye Fleagle all make swell contributions to the production.
But it’s only right to call Bonnie Myers the star of the show. As Mammy Yokum, she’s a-dither with sass, and never more so than when playing off the tender-hearted, good-spirited Allen Fitch as Pappy Yokum. Myers’ energy and diligence are astounding, and the two together seem to have stepped right off the comics page.
“Li’l Abner” will be presented 7 p.m. March 31 and April 1, and 2 p.m. April 2 at the Grand Auditorium in Ellsworth. For tickets, call 667-9500.
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