Theater Review: 'You Should Be So Lucky'

As luck would have it, The Players is closing out its current season with Charles Busch’s “You Should Be So Lucky.” It’s essentially, well, a fairy tale. (Busch’s wisecrack, not mine.) Substitute an agoraphobic, gay electrolysist for Cinderella and you get the picture.

Christopher (Parker Lawhorne) is the professional hair remover in question. Sometime in the early Clinton era, he lives in Greenwich Village in a ratty, badly wired flat stuffed with Chinoiserie and his narcissistic, needy sister Polly (Jennifer Eddy), an intermittently employed actress. One sweltering summer’s day, Christopher helps an elderly Jewish tycoon named Rosenberg (Neil Kasanofsky), who had a heat stroke and hit the sidewalk. It’s the beginning of a beautiful, hetero friendship and protracted electrolysis treatment for the old guy’s hairy back. Rosenberg becomes a father figure, and surprises his surrogate son with tickets, tux and a ride in a Rolls Royce to a swanky charity ball. There, Christopher meets his Prince Charming, Walter (Joshua Brin) — a publicist nobody’s ever heard of, much like Walter’s clients. Then, thanks to a freak power surge, Christopher’s electrolysis needle zaps the old mensch into the next world. “Oh God,” he cries. “I’ve just electrocuted another Rosenberg!” But his bad luck turns good. A day before, Rosenberg put Christopher in his will to the tune of 10 million smackers. Lenore (Cara Herman), Rosenberg’s alienated daughter, is ready to fight for it with every lawyer she’s got. The old guy returns from the next world to teach Christopher to fight back. This involves talk shows, channeling and a whole lot of luck.

Does Busch’s comedy sound over-the-top? More like through the roof, out of the ionosphere and past the solar system. Underneath the wretched excess, it’s still a classic farce. Director Bob Trisolini dials it up to eleven — and the opening night audience loved it.

The actors do, too — and jump into Busch’s silliness with both feet. Lawhorne’s Christopher has the perfect mix of flamboyance and repression. He’s an agile physical comic who gets the audience howling — especially while channeling various dead people. Speaking of which, Kasankofsky hilariously channels a slightly taller Jackie Mason in his Rosenberg portrayal. (Do I lie?) Eddy, Herman, Brin and Donna DeFant all hit the right comic notes as self-absorbed sister, damaged daughter, unknown publicist and Iron Maiden of talk show hosts, respectively.

It’s a heaping helping of comedy. That comedy is never mean spirited — or subtle, politically correct, tasteful or restrained, either. “Hold a mirror up to nature,” was Hamlet’s advice. Busch holds up a funhouse mirror. It’s warped and distorted, OK. But that’s what makes it funny.

Hey, Busch never met a stereotype he didn’t like. Gays are flamboyant; Jewish people kvetch; actresses are divas; talk show hosts are piranhas. Going too far is not in his vocabulary. But Busch is the playwright of “Vampire Lesbians of Sodom” and New York City’s reigning drag queen.

 What do you expect, good taste?