Church Basement Ladies is a folksy little musical that pays tribute to the "Steel Magnolias" of Minnesota's Lutheran church. The show, with a local cast, is spending the summer in Milwaukee.
Staged in the relatively intimate Vogel Hall, Ladies gets a lot of its laughs from the precise comic timing of the middle-aged women who rule the church kitchen. These are the unsung heroes who quietly manage every church function.
Set in 1964, the show is a perfect snapshot of its time. Three of the ladies are plump and round-faced. They wear permed hair and retro aprons around their hideously ugly dresses. One of them, the mother of a college student, who cannot stay away long from the kitchen's comforting sanctuary. The show also has a kindly pastor who often takes refuge among the bustling kitchen workers.
The show, more than two hours long, would work better if the cast were larger (it has only five actors) or switched occasionally to a different set. However, it manages fairly well within the confines of its limited budget and was a long-running hit in its native Minnesota.
The musical opens as the ladies are preparing for the church's annual lutefisk dinner, traditionally served by Norwegians at Christmas. For the uninitiated, lutefisk is literally "lye fish." Dried cod is soaked in water then treated with lye. Although the lye is removed before eating (thankfully), the fish has a strong stench. Lutefisk is usually served with lefse, a soft, rich flatbread. Rounding out the meal are potatoes, pickles and pie. One must note that the show's tall cooker used to make lutefisk looks completely authentic, as does the rest of the circa 1960s kitchen. No Cuisinarts here.
Music and lyrics are appealing. The show starts with a strong, upbeat opener, "Closer to Heaven (in the Church Basement)." Then things get silly with "The Pale Food Polka," which takes aim at bland Scandinavian dishes. There's a lovely ballad, "Song for Willie," the pastor's eulogy for a well-loved, hard-working church janitor. One of the funniest tunes is "The Cities." Not surprisingly, those who live in a small town are wary of the nearby urban centers in this case, Minneapolis and St. Paul. One character refers to them as the "Sodom and Gomorrah of the prairie" and also claims that the cities are infested by cockroaches. As the ladies cope with a record-breaking crowd for the lutefisk dinner, plus the demands of non-stop weddings and funerals, the audience learns about the strong bonds between them. Although husbands are mentioned, none ever appears onstage. The eldest of the ladies, who serves as the kitchen's matriarch, is a widow. She expresses her resistance to change, from guitars in the sanctuary to a switch in the color of the hymnals. She is completely disgusted by a Hawaiian-themed dinner. However, the spring event sparks outrageously funny "homemade" costumes. Even the Easter Bunny appears in island attire.
As funny as all this may be, the show's comic highlight concerns another lady's menopausal misery: hot flashes. Whether shoving her ample body into the kitchen's chest freezer or partially disrobing in front of the pastor, Mavis (Rhonda Rae Busch) receives gales of laughter from the audience. This bit alone is worth the price of admission.
All of the actors perform capably in their roles. The small cast allows each actor to be showcased. Longtime local actor Norman Moses, known for his comic delivery, doesn't disappoint as the Pastor. He is usually surrounded by the ladies as a rooster would be by a flock of hens. Jenny Wanasek plays Vivian, the kitchen's matriarch. Rhonda Rae Busch is Mavis, the menopausal matron. Kay Steifel is Karin, mother of college student Signe (Beth Mulkerron).
Church Basement Ladies is innocent, G-rated fun. It has special appeal for middle-aged women, and one suspects that they will be the core audience for this lighthearted comedy.
