One does not ordinarily view The Second City, home of cutting-edge satire, as a place of refuge, but in this extraordinary time, our venerable cabaret theater is indeed a haven of laughter.
“Embryos on Ice!” or “Fetus Don’t Fail Me Now,” the 87th revue in Second City’s 42-year history, had been set to open Sept. 12. The official opening was wisely postponed, some material that would have been too tough to take under the circumstances was dropped, and the show’s premiere was held instead this week.
The usual exercise of doping out the relative merits of the current cast and the new material is not of major importance here. The fact is that the cast is good, and the show delivers. The laughs are many.
There’s one mild George Bush joke, a brief, innocent reference to New York City and one slightly queasy moment when a couple of girl geeks in a high school lunch room explode with anger, hauling out automatic weapons and a hand grenade from their back packs.
Otherwise, the revue sticks to subject matter that, while sharp, occasionally politically incorrect, irreverent, impolite and even cruel, is not murderous. The customary material surfaces: religion, domestic life, political tomfoolery, show business sham, office interaction, parent-child and male-female relationships.
God, fielding queries from the people, learns that one of his questioners is a Lutheran minister. “At last,” says God, having dealt with a woman who said that she prayed but couldn’t understand why her children were still ugly, “a voice of reason.”
A nervous high school kid (Craig Cackowski) is driven to his first date’s house by his mother (Nyima Funk), who is also nervous about going out on her first date in a long while. The recent tax cut is dissected, with sarcastic asides, by David Pompeii. A waiter (Ed Furman) gives gross-out descriptions of the day’s specials to an increasingly nauseated couple. God (Furman) and the devil (Martin Garcia) join opposing bowling teams. A long-haired dude (Furman, ever zestful) jamming on his electric guitar is joined in rhythm by the protesting cane thumps of his sleepy old upstairs neighbor (Cackowski).
George Washington (Furman), powdered wig on head — “I placed third in the Barbara Bush lookalike contest” — gives a state-by-state preview of the 25-cent pieces he has in mind for such places as Arkansas, Utah and Wisconsin.
The seven-member cast lines up to give its own analysis of census statistics: “Native Americans are now outnumbered by boy bands.” “The state of Delaware still doesn’t matter.” “Four percent of all cat lovers are completely sane.”
A girl-group trio (Debra Downing, Funk, Sue Gillan) ingeniously improvises a pop song based on “pickle,” a word supplied by someone in the audience.
The show returns frequently to its “embryos on ice” theme, with one couple showing off their embryo infant and another arguing over the physical and psychological traits for their child that they can choose by computer.
On it goes. A panel of misfits in a preview audience gives goofy answers to questions about the movies — “Operation Red Torch” and “Fluffy Goes to Town” — they’ve just seen. A feuding Irish couple scrap and then coo in the hospital while he awaits a liver transplant.
A group of battling computer programmers goes through a chaotic “mandatory retreat.” Suggestions from the audience shape a scene for a family’s reaction to a new pet — dog, ape, flamingo, moose.
The laughs keep coming.
At the end of the performance, after the big applause, a member of the cast steps forward to express “deep gratitude” to the customers for being there, adding, “And we hope we made you feel a little better.”
They did.
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“Embryos on Ice” continues at Second City, 1616 N. Wells St., in an open-ended run. 312-337-3992.
