Traffic, Waffle House, mayor fodder for Second City show
The Atlanta Journal-Constitution
Thursday, September 25, 2008
A couple of tourists from Chicago are gliding into Atlanta on the freeway. The skyline beckons. It will be an adventure. “Man, even driving in Atlanta is a breeze,” says the husband to the wife.
Boy are they in for a surprise.
Special to the AJC
Michael Lehrer (from left), Robyn Norris, Ric Walker, Amy Roeder, Anthony Irons and Tim Stoltenberg are among the cast of ‘The Second City: Too Busy to Hate … Too Hard to Commute’ at the Alliance Theatre.
- "The Second City: Too Busy to ate...Too Hard to Commute"
- Grade: B+
- Through Oct. 26. $35-$45. Alliance Theatre's Hertz Stage, Woodruff Arts Center, 1280 Peachtree St. N.E., Midtown. 404-733-5000, alliance.org.
- Bottom Line: A laugh-out-loud tour of the town.
- Previous story: Second City takes shots at Atlanta | Photos
- Map: Atlanta museums
- Blog: ATLarts
Thus begins “The Second City: Too Busy to Hate … Too Hard to Commute.” Created by Chicago’s famed Second City comedy troupe at the invitation of the Alliance Theatre, the new show has arrived like some zany spaghetti junction revue of song, dance, sketch comedy and improv. Designed and performed with loopy abandon, purposefully engineered to mock the city’s politics, prejudices, flaws, foibles, icons and institutions, the piece leaves skid marks on everything from our hoop skirt past to our hip-hop present.
Atlanta may be forever stuck in traffic and running on empty. But director Matt Hovde has assembled a cast of nimble, free-form driver-performers who are game to burn their high-octane blend of social satire and piston-popping physical comedy.
No one is safe in this second torching of Atlanta.
Mayor Shirley Franklin gets serenaded by a suave crooner (Ric Walker), who is smitten with her “platinum” blonde hairdo and her signature “big-ass flower.” Southern belle Charlotte (Robyn Norris) pens letters to her soldier-beau Jonathan (Tim Stoltenberg) during a skit in which the audience supplies lines — and the quick-witted improv artists throw them back. A Waffle House owner (Michael Lehrer) seeking the U.S. presidency says that “running out of country ham after a Ludacris concert” qualifies him to deal with any natural disaster he could ever encounter. And in one of the funniest segments, a jive-talking brother (Anthony Irons) tries to hawk an energy drink that’s administered through the eyes. Ouch.
This being a Chicago product, you can be sure that Barack Obama comes up quite a bit. (The Obama joke is like the time Toni Morrison said Bill Clinton was the first African-American president — only it’s magnified to the nth power.)
Although a good measure of the shtick is new, some of it is based on classics of the group’s repertoire. (The writing is credited to the cast of the Second City, with additional material by Ed Furman and T.J. Shanoff.) Given the improvisational nature of the game, the show will look a little different each night, a comic chameleon at the ready, and new lines are introduced to play off the news. (On opening night, for example, the introductory sequence made reference to the city’s gas shortage.)
Naturally, some of the gimmicks fall flat, such as the riff on the “Piedmont Private Club,” the polar bear business and some rambling reference to Georgia Bulldogs (I think). Sometimes, the performers are at the mercy of the crowd, so don’t sit up front if you are dumb-stuck. (Kudos to Amy Roeder for not letting her turn as the twangy waitress from Carl, Ga., go completely off course due to the lethargy of audience members.)
Part of the thrill of the ride is the totally random nature of its twist and turns. Anything can happen at a Second City show, and usually does. This company of actors is particularly strong at split-second invention and minor miracles of timing. Though the piece hasn’t quite figured out how it should end, you’ll be so busy laughing that it will be too hard to care.
