‘Iceboy!’ gets a lukewarm reception in Chicago

By LOU HARRY

I laughed a lot during Iceboy, the new musical getting what producers hope is a pre-Broadway run at the Goodman Theatre in Chicago.

The new musical concerns a wealthy actress’ acquisition of a frozen caveman who, once thawed, becomes her surrogate child. That is, until he proves a bigger audience pleasing box-office draw than she and jealousy rears its head. What ultimately happens is spoiled in the show’s subtitle: The Completely Untrue Story of How Eugene O’Neill Came to Write ‘The Iceman Cometh.’”

The quantity of laughs are no surprise, given the show’s talent team. Not only is it headlined by ampersand TV show comedy stalwarts Megan Mullally and Nick Offerman, its music is by “Urinetown”’s Mark Hollmann who shares lyric credit with book writer Jay Reiss, one of the creators of “The Twenty Fifth Annual Putnam County Spelling Bee.”

As the initially narrating O’Neill, Nick Offerman is a commanding, playful, straight-faced presence. In the midst of a six-year writer’s block – that part is true – O’Neill not only sets up the plot, but does some preliminary work on audience manners. (“If someone shushes you, don’t get annoyed at them. It means you were talking,” he says.).

Mullally has a tougher assignment. She’s Vera Vimm, an egotistical actress who somehow has the lead in a Broadway musical about sweatshops. An abandoned-on-a-doorstep orphan herself, she sees a connection with the titular guy from the past, who also has parent/child issues. She’s got a somehow adoring writer fiancé (Cedric Yarbrough), a loyal, deadpan maid (Sarah Stiles) and, inexplicably as a butler, the Frankenstein monster (Alex Goodrich).

Even with a good share of laughs, though, why did I find Iceboy! disappointing?

Other shows have been built on silliness. Monty Python’s ‘Spamalot! replaces horse hooves with coconuts, jumps from Arthurian England, and ends up in Vegas. “Cry-Baby” has characters named Lenora Frigid and Hatchet Face. Hell, “Cats” has…cats.

But there’s a reason most “Saturday Night Live” movies built from sketch characters overstay their welcome (“Wayne’s World” being a surprising and rare exception). There isn’t enough of a motor to make us care about what’s happening for longer than ten minutes. Even the best bits on “The Carol Burnett Show” would be unlikely to hold up to two hours of stage time.

Further, while the premise of Iceboy! isn’t traditional Broadway fare, it doesn’t hold any surprises – and often feels derivative.

Iceboy’s education and musical chops echo both Bat Boy and Young Frankenstein. A how-long-can-we-knowingly-milk-this bit in the second act feels like something out of “Family Guy.” And Mullally’s Vimm feels like a less-interesting variation on Dee Dee Allen from The Prom. In that show, though, Allen was egotistical and unaware but not completely disconnected from reality, as Vimm seems here. As such, it’s difficult to care about her.

Further, each of the aforementioned shows has a stronger strong stack (Yes, including “Family Guy.” Give a listen to “The FCC Song” or “Thank the Whites.”) Oddly, the two strongest numbers here are given to Stiles, who elevates both, just as she did as the only shining light in Broadway’s ill-conceived Tootsie.

The fact that one of her songs here centers on menopause and the other on anal sex points toward a desire for Oh, Mary! or The Book of Mormon boundary pushing. As outrageous as those shows are, though, they are anchored in their own consistent worlds. Here, in addition to the Karloff-ian butler, there are zoo bars that bend and house a friendly gorilla, a hospital bed that jumps from location to location, a show-within-a-show that the writers haven’t seemed to decide whether it deserves to be a hit or a flop, and other elements that seem like the come from a drunken brainstorming session where nobody had the spine to say “maybe not.”

The show itself seems ready for a reaction such as mine. At one point, O’Neill says, “This is a musical. You didn’t come here to think.”

What I’m thinking, though, is that with a tough-love trip back to the drawing board, this creative team could make Iceboy! more than an extended sketch.

Side note: Along with the Mullally/Offerman books and Iceboy! t-shirts in the lobby, there is a fun you-are-in-an-ice-flow photo opporunity. Smart.