But the highest honor that can be rendered in certain quarters of the St. Louis community can currently be found on weekend evenings in the Regional Arts Commission building in the Delmar Loop. That honor is conferred by being made the subject of a parody of one's work, created and performed by the guardians of the flame at the Magic Smoking Monkey Theatre.
So the Monkeys give us their version of The Abominable Dr. Phibes – in 3-D, no less.
Dr. Phibes lost his wife in a botched operation some years ago. Now he is taking his revenge on those medical colleagues who presided at the failed surgery. Each must die by an ingenious equivalent of the plagues God visited on the Egyptians in the book of Exodus.
It's a plan, anyway.
A stern Richard Lewis pounds the doctor's hymns of vengeance on an organ obviously painted – but beautifully painted – on a piece of cloth that rises out of the stage floor. Lewis looks and acts about as much like Vincent Price as Richard Lewis looks and acts like Vincent Price.
All the painting on the set, by Cristie Johnston, is beautifully done. All the props, mastered by C. Blaine Adams, are shamelessly tacky, as are the special effects, whose creators escape blame.
I gather from the assortment of more-or-less British accents on stage that the play is set in England. I gather from the range of the performances that director Donna Northcott encouraged excess when she was unable to discourage it.
That makes the calm, cool, and collected Inspector Trout, beautifully underplayed by Ben Ritchie, stand out. Casey Boland makes the expected goofs as his assistant, and Ruman Kazi magnificently masticates the language as Trout's chief. Jill Ritter's frightening excess is achieved by doing almost nothing. Nicole Angeli demonstrates what makes a top-flight comedienne in a trio of roles. Luke Lindberg nobly faces his fate as Dr. Phibes' prime target; Jaysen Cryer is his very strange son. Scott McMaster and Jason Puff play victims, butlers, rabbis, nurses – whatever comes up. Amy Kelly makes the most ghostly appearance. And Katie Donovan, Jeff Roberts, and Seth Pyatt bear the blame for costumes, lights, and sound.
Once again Magic Smoking Monkey Theatre has triumphed, and our suffering theatre is brought still nearer to its demise.
