If you think Del Shores' "Sordid Lives" is the funniest play to come down the pike since his earlier "Daddy's Dyin', Who's Got the Will?" ... well, as Jeff Foxworthy would observe, you might be a redneck.
But while yee-haw, dirt-kicking Texans abound in "Sordid Lives," the Costa Mesa Civic Playhouse's new comedy shifts focus to alternative lifestyles that have driven two of its characters far out of the Lone Star State. One is a closeted New York actor, the other a long-incarcerated, cross-dressing sanitarium patient undergoing a fruitless regimen of "de-homosexualization."
These characters make a huge impact in the second act, but the first act features the locals of Winters, Texas (population 2,280), where a grandmotherly lady has just suffered a fatal accident by tripping over the wooden legs of her lover after a motel tryst.
The ripples generated by this event spread with hilarious results in director Michael Dale Brown's envelope-pushing production, enriched by a boldly energetic cast, as the survivors grieve, each in his or her own way - two of them enacting a "Thelma and Louise"-style vengeance on the local bar crowd.
Outrageous interpretations run rampant throughout the first act, but two performers stand out - Rusty Vance's grieving wooden-legged philanderer and Leigh Anne Patterson as his infuriated wife, both gong the extra comedic mile for outlandish effect. The second act belongs to Ron Grigsby as the flamboyant, cross-dressing "Brother Boy," doomed to a lifetime of useless therapy.
Barbara Duncan Brown also impresses as the torn-up sister of the deceased who picked the wrong time to give up smoking. Kay Richey and Norma Jean Riddick add comic punch as squabbling survivors.
Brothers Wardell and Odell Owens (Jim Thoms and Travis Stolp) enhance the redneck atmosphere in the tavern scene, where they join Vance as half-dressed victims of Patterson's rifle-packing revenge. Tiffany McQuay and Rick Hardgrove complete this scene as local barflies (the latter a clergyman), while vocalist Laura Lindahl brightens the atmosphere, making country music palatable.
When the scene shifts to the sanitarium, therapist Jenny Lanning - who has her own ambitious agenda - takes an unorthodox crack at exposing Grigsby's masculine side, with predictable results. Meanwhile, Ryan Holihan shares his inner torments of suppressing his gay nature with an unseen shrink and the audience.
Director Brown also has designed the adaptable setting, which morphs from a living room to a bar to a funeral home. Costumes aren't credited, but they're terrific, as are the wigs, designed by Jon Sparks. Steven Vasquez and Rob Lehde handle the tricky sound and lighting cues.
Beneath its outrageous comedy, "Sordid Lives" is an appeal for tolerance regarding alternate lifestyles and quirky behavior. The Costa Mesa show offers both.