The longest running original show in New Orleans makes its way back to Le Chat Noir . This show won the Big Easy Theater Award for Best Comedy in 1995. Spend time with the famous..infamous...yatt..batty ladies of the Mystic Krewe of Terpsichore. As David put it in his review last year:
'Sex and the City,' New Awleans style Friday, June 13, 2008 By David Cuthbert A group of women sit around eating and drinking and talking about -- what else? -- the opposite sex. -- "Men," says one, "ya can't live with them, ya can't live without their money." -- ...Read More
The longest running original show in New Orleans makes its way back to Le Chat Noir . This show won the Big Easy Theater Award for Best Comedy in 1995. Spend time with the famous..infamous...yatt..batty ladies of the Mystic Krewe of Terpsichore. As David put it in his review last year:
'Sex and the City,' New Awleans style Friday, June 13, 2008 By David Cuthbert A group of women sit around eating and drinking and talking about -- what else? -- the opposite sex. -- "Men," says one, "ya can't live with them, ya can't live without their money." -- "My husband's like a chiffarobe -- somethin' big wid drawes
-- "Jackie O had what every woman wants -- a rich, dead husband." Not exactly Carrie Bradshaw and her cohorts, but an entertainment event of a more parochial sort. The members of the Mystic Krewe of Terpsichore have returned -- this time to Le Chat Noir, which has been turned into Arceneaux's Mid-City Lounge, where its members meet to argue, gossip, diss each other unmercifully, pick out a float theme, ". . . And the Ball and All." Ricky Graham's indestructible comedy has returned again, with every other line a guaranteed laugh and nostalgia for a long-gone New Orleans that lives on in the memories of vanished landmarks, youthful exploits ("suckin' face at the Rockery Inn") and a poignant moment or two. It's set in 1995-96, so the only hurricane that gets a mention is Betsy. Whether you've seen the show multiple times or not at all, it still works like a chawm; a well-oiled comic fun machine that New Orleanians of a certain age respond to with a glee bordering on hysterics. The cast of very funny women is led by Becky Allen, that bawdy, gaudy force of nature, as Frances Trepagnier, a who-gives-a-damn exhibitionist you hope will never sit next to you at a slot machine. Amanda Hebert plays her nemesis, Verna LeBlanc, a holier than thou fan of Wild Turkey and summer furs ("Some are furs, some are not"). Yvette Hargis is laid-back Lena Catalanatto, who tells her husband in bed, "Do what ya want, baby, just don't wake me up." Rebecca Taliancich is the woebegone widow, Aggie Arceneaux, who tends to play the martyr ("Get off da cross, Aggie!") and Mandy Zirkenbach is Anna Mae Bergeron, an edgy maw-maw with a purse full of pharmaceuticals, whose grandchildren are outside in the car. "It's OK," she says, "I got the winda cracked." All are afflicted with "hot flushes," TB ("tremendous behinds") and great comic timing. Gogo Bordering plays the youngest of the group, Teri Ann Vicknair, addicted to Drive-Through Daiquiris and the phrase "Ah swear." Patrick Mendelson is Carnival couturier Ernesto, dialect, attitude and malaprops courtesy of Carmen Miranda. There's a plot of sorts, about stolen krewe money, putting on a benefit show and the ball itself, with Hebert dressed as "Christmas in Tijuana" and Zirkenbach "wearing the lovely black and gold: gold hair with the black roots." Graham directs and should caution his stars that they're often blocking views of one another. It's a loud show, but surprisingly conversational, as if you're actually eavesdropping on women who know the difference between a muse and a goddess: "A muse is a street Uptown; a goddess is a street in Metry."
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