The Boob Show
Phoenix Theatre, Phoenix, AZ February 21, 2018
Reviewed by Lynn Timmons Edwards for Cabaret Scenes
Equity actor Sally Jo Bannow is well known in Arizona for her tour-de-force character performances including the Wicked Witch in The Wizard of Oz and the Evil Nanny in Mary Poppins. She is more than a triple threat: she is also the writer, lyricist, and composer for The Boob Show. Her journey started with twelve songs and three monologues called What Are You Looking At? in 2003 following her battle with breast cancer. Evolving renditions were performed at the Herberger Theater and other venues over the next decade, and then further refined through the 2015 and 2016 New American Theatre Festivals.
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Her collaborators include pianist and music director Craig Bohlmer, a brilliant composer in his own right, and director Michael Barnard, the Producing Artistic Director of Phoenix Theatre.
Bannow makes a simple entrance, pulling a suitcase and wearing a Michigan sweatshirt, leading us to believe this will be a personal story. This reviewer did not have the pleasure of seeing any of the previous Boob shows, but I have read criticism that this fully staged two-act version is less moving. The current rendition takes the audience to Boobtropolis. The setting is very pink and includes high tech graphics, many well-endowed mannequins, and has Bohmler at the piano—which doubles as a bar—upstage, dressed like the cover of Sgt. Pepper. The production is less Bannow’s story and more a circus social commentary about the obsession with breasts.
Bannow is a gifted actor, seamlessly transitioning among characters of different genders, dialects, and ages. Her range extends to a young boy obsessed with his mother’s magazines to two teenagers, one who can’t wait to “fill out” and one who finds her budding chest a detriment to her ability to play sports. She is funny as an elderly professor espousing anatomy, and sweet as an elderly man who adores his wife, despite her sagging features. Some of Bannow’s characters are over the top, like the breast-feeding Lady Madonna covered in stuffed animals and the Dolly Parton who murders her boss for staring at her chest one too many times. Her boldest creation is her breast surgeon, Dr. Rickie, who has to admit to his girlfriend he met on Christian.com that he has a fetish for wearing falsies. Will she understand or leave him? No spoilers here. Bannow’s character voice is strong, but, not being a singer first, she is less engaging in her upper register.
Bannow does her best to engage the audience, not only moving out into the house at times, but also bringing two volunteers into Boobtropolis and teaching them a song and dance as Bohmler plays bongos at chest height. Boobies are then sling shot into the audience; the lucky patron who catches the EEE gets a free drink at intermission. In a multi-media song about “Man Tits,” the entire audience competes in a sing-along.
The full house of mostly younger patrons than this reviewer were laughing and clapping along.
The music is not memorable; many of the songs are done in rap style. That said, Bohmler’s accompaniment and arrangements make the most of every note. Bannow’s forte is her clever and sometimes poignant lyrics. Her characters are brave and bold and funny as she sings “not loving myself is the real cancer,” and notes “who knew a musical could be born out of a tumor?” Bannow intends to take this show as far as she can.
