There are worse ways to spend a cold January night in Chicago than catching a hot little musical bubbling with sex. The Best Little Whorehouse in Texas first captivated Broadway with its humorously sympathetic saga about a bordello called the Chicken Ranch in the late 70s. The musical then went on to become a highly successful film starring Dolly Parton and Burt Reynolds. Theo Ubique’s 2023 interpretation of what’s now classic theatrical fare tweaked it with its own updates but kept the story’s pugnacious essence firmly intact.
The first surprise was the set. Unlike a lot of small theater’s, Theo Ubique Cabaret Theatre mixes it up. Behind its door on Howard, the cabaret goes old school by becoming three things in one. Bar, restaurant and theater, all in one open space. Other than being a little confusing, its coziness makes it very inviting. Greeters let you know you’re welcome to take any of the black chairs lining the east and west walls of the room. Some are elevated with a small railing for drinks and some simply border what looks like a dance floor. Red cushioned chairs at the bar are also open for theater seating and have the advantage of providing a center view. What will become the stage has seven tables filled with diners bordering its lower end. Cabaret is another name for a supper or night club and this one is too brightly lit to throw a night club vibe. With so many plates overflowing with hearty comfort food, here supper club is a much better fit. A Victorian couch at the far end of the diners and two wooden benches sitting opposite one another were the only hints that what looked to be a dance floor was, in fact, the stage.
Once the dining tables got pushed back, the lights went down and the bar went on temporary shutdown, the magic of theater took over the room. A tight little band dressed up in cowboy “going to a party” gear kicked it off with 20 Fans, a rousing introduction to the ranch. An established and successful pleasure outpost in the fictitious Gilbert, Texas, the ranch had melded into the everyday life of south Texas long ago. Bequeathed to her from the original proprietor, Miss Mona (Ann Sheridan Smith) was now running the house with the help of her able right hand, Miss Jewel (Cynthia F. Carter). Patiently tending to the needs of their workers and their clients, both women were adept at perfectly calibrating the balance between their hearts and their brains.
Some might call it class, or you could say the Chicken Ranch simply had standards, but it’s clear Miss Mona and Miss Jewel take considerable pride in the services they offer. Customers aren’t johns, they’re guests. And the women who work at the ranch like the element of safety and camaraderie Miss Mona’s place affords. Word gets out about fair employers and it’s not long before Angel (Laura Quinones) and Shy (Michaela Shapiro) show up looking for work. One, a veteran of the streets looking for a different business model and the other brand new to the game like what they hear. Their back stories aren’t particularly new or exceptional, but their stories reinforce the variety of reasons why sex work can be a well-considered choice for some women. Written by Larry King and Peter Masterson, the musical spoons out the sweet and sour in unequal measure. Harsh realities are offset with humor or compassion that both lighten and add perspective to a hidden way of life.
The unconventional is always challenged and the Chicken Ranch was bound to run, again, into the headwinds of public opinion. They’d done it before. Friendly with the Sheriff, Ed Earl Dodd (Marc Prince), and on very good terms with high ranking state officials, Miss Mona didn’t initially believe this latest threat would cause much harm. She didn’t realize she was dealing with a zealot with a penchant for the spotlight named Melvin P. Thorpe (David Blakeman). A squishy wreaking ball with a high Texas drawl and a craving for melodrama, Melvin is a Texas caricature that’s easy to boo. His game is simple self-aggrandizement. The play reinforces the hypocrisy that usually accompanies moral indignation. Here it’s done with a good dose of camp, loads of energy and a supporting cast that’s in it to win it. With plenty of dancing, a tsunami of spirited songs and characters whose humanity shine like the polished gold, rooting for this band of misfits is as natural as crossing a street.
More even performances would certainly have made The Best Little Whorehouse in Texas a stronger effort. Earnestness more than compensated for any imbalances. With an outsized voice and natural charisma, Cynthia Carter’s singing electrified the room every time she sang. The ensemble took it from there to elevate the musical into something memorable. Often playing multiple roles, they radiated so much positive energy that it quickly saturated the room. That spirit made their roles glow. Quinones as Angel and Shapiro playing Shy remained thoroughly engaging as the “new girls”. More in the background but essential in rounding out the progression of the story, Bruce Holtman and Michael Penick were constant reminders of how much the supporting cast contributes to a production’s success. And it didn’t hurt to have a couple of guys playing female roles as ladies of Chicken Ranch. Playful and a gesture that embraces hard won progress in the culture wars, it gave the musical yet another touch of sparkle.
The Best Little Whorehouse in Texas
Through January 29th
Theo Ubique Cabaret Theatre
721 Howard St.
Evanston, IL
