Avenue Q Review – The Provocative Dolls Return for a Feast of Filth and Fun | stage

THe sounded a warning that “doll nudity” doesn’t begin to cover it. You’ll also see the dolls having sex, sing about being “a bit racist” and happily admit to having pornographic tendencies.

The gentle subversion of Q Street, 20, is back Years after these once-feeling obscure Sesame Street wannabes stormed the West End. The Tony Award-winning musical from Robert Lopez and Jeff Marks is not exactly shocking now but it is very entertaining as these creatures (plus some humans) fall in love, suffer existential crises and create hilarious mayhem.

Directed by Jason Moore on a set surrounded by Anna Loizos’ house, as flat as a child’s drawing, the film begins with the arrival of a bushy-tailed Princeton College graduate (Noah Harrison) on a famous New York street, and leads to his romance with Kate Munster (a strange Shrek-like character played by Emily Benjamin) and his search for a greater meaning in life. His new neighbors include the straight-talking Japanese Christmas Eve therapist (Amelia Keanu Moss), former child star turned handyman Gary (Dione Ward-Anderson), Rod (also Harrison) and Nicky (Charlie McCullagh) — roommates in the mold of Bert and Ernie from Sesame Street.

There are raunchy songs like If You Were Gay, Every’s a Little Bit Racist and The Internet Is for Porn, the latter led by Trekkie Monster that exudes Cookie Monster vibes that turn dirty. These songs do their best to break taboos and may have sounded explosive back in the day. The topic is still current (from the resurgence of homophobia to the revival of the Black Lives Matter movement), but not with shock value. The strong Japanese accent of Austrian-Japanese artist Kino Moss is perhaps the most striking thing. There’s also the pre-#MeToo moniker of Lucy (“slut”), an influencer who looks like a doll version of Bonnie Blue with a plunging neckline (“Yes, they’re real,” she said).

The force of the show’s false naiveté is at work because of the comic dissonance between the puppets’ innocence—the wide eyes and sweet voices—and their extreme misbehavior (drunkenness, pole dancing, sex, and betrayal). Lopez and Marx’s songs are great, from the schadenfreude wit to the melancholy of Kate’s breakup song, “There’s a Fine, Fine Line,” and the subtle hilarity of Rudd singing My Girlfriend, Who Lives in Canada. Each number is performed with such physical and vocal fervor by the cast of puppeteers, especially the amazing Harrison and Benjamin, that it is as if the puppets are talking, singing and sighing.

Muppet designer Rick Leon’s furry creations are strangely derivative (he worked on Sesame Street for 15 seasons). It’s a clever take on a children’s show, with animated clips, preschool tutorials and Oscar the Grouch’s signature litter boxes in the background. But the bizarre satire also stands on its own terms. Jeff Whitty’s award-winning book has been updated with funny references to AI, OnlyFans and Spotify, while Mix Tape’s song contains a sarcastic reference to the phenomenon of the “good old days”.

The production trades off its cutesy/subversive/crazy charm and the story itself isn’t particularly strong. But who cares? It brings such a sunny, puppet-bound escapism while never leaving our world and the chaos humans have created in it. The show ends on a hopeful note with a big helping of “this too shall pass” ethos. It’s all just for now, the Muppets – and even Trump – tell us.