If you have tickets to attend the world premiere production of Rude Mechs “I’ve Never Been so Happy,” put on your cowboy best and show up early. The lobby of the Kirk Douglas Theater has been transformed into a shindig of epic proportions. There’s a quick-draw photo booth, color-by-numbers mural, drag race and more. You can even visit the clothes horse to borrow some cowboy finery if you don’t have any of your own. There is a good time to be had by all and grub and drink at the Drink and Stink Saloon. So come early, have some fun and when the lights flash to indicate the beginning of the show, go home.
Mechs’ “I’ve Never Been so Happy” misses the mark at every turn. It is almost as if they are trying so hard to be clever that they forgot the point they were trying to make. At one end of the spectrum, there is a country-western variety show and at the other is a 1980s hard rock singing mountain lion. That’s right, a mountain lion. Brutus and his daughter Annabellee host a TV variety show with their two dachshunds, Sigmunda and Sigfried. Brutus has set down an edict that Annabellee isn’t allowed to leave the house until she is married. She obviously wants to go and experience the world and can’t fathom how she is supposed to meet a man and get married if she’s not allowed to leave the house. She makes a deal with her father that she will marry whomever he chooses.
So Brutus sets out to find the most worthless, dirty, revolting man he can find so that there is no way that Annabellee will agree to marry him. Little does he know that she’s been dreaming of a mountain lion and calling it to her, her plan being that right after getting married, the lion will kill her new husband and set her free to explore the world.
Brutus goes to the sheriff of the town to help him find this man. She refuses to help him, so he goes out to look on his own. Julie, a mother who lives in the nearby Womyn’s commune, comes to the sheriff for help. The women at the commune helped her raise her son, Jeremy, but since he turned 18, he can’t stay there anymore, since men are not allowed. So Julie gets the brilliant idea that she will tie him to the last mountain lion in Texas so he can learn how to be a man. After doing this, she regrets her decision and goes to the sheriff to ask her to track down Jeremy. Meanwhile, Jeremy has gotten free from the lion and is found by Brutus, who deems him the perfect candidate to marry his daughter.
Back at the variety show, the two dachshunds teach Jeremy what he needs to know to win Annabellee’s heart, which he does, but before they can get married, she is stolen out of her dressing room by – you guessed it – the mountain lion. So Jeremy organizes a rescue party to get her back. The remainder continues along this bizarre, convoluted track and concludes with a happy ending, with all loose ends neatly tied up in a bow.
If you’re trying to figure out what the point of all of this is, you aren’t the only one. And that’s before mentioning the background dancers that are ever present, the back-up singers – one of whom has a gorgeous operatic voice (why she sings operatically is perplexing, but at least she was good) – and the ever-present animations and projections on the back wall that are more often than not distracting.
The music is beautiful at times and at other times, filled with discordant harmonies that never resolve, and several of the actresses wind up flat while trying to affect that stereotypical country-western twang. However, probably the most annoying thing is that for the majority of the songs, there is no reason for them to be sung. In a musical, characters break into song because speaking alone can’t convey their full emotions, so they must sing. It is a compulsion, a need. In this musical, the characters break into song because that’s what it says to do in the script. While this makes sense during the parts that take place on the variety show stage, it doesn’t elsewhere.
The saving grace is the performances of Sigmunda and Sigfried, played by Jenny Larson and Paul Soileau. They are both able to occupy the larger-than-life world in which they exist without becoming caricatures. Larson’s physicality is brilliant, topped only by her beautiful singing voice. However, that isn’t enough to salvage the evening. So when the lights flash to usher you to your seat, go home. If you decide to stay, make your way over to the Drink and Stink for a couple of margaritas. It’ll help.
