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`Guys and Dolls' breaks into the '90s

A woman feigns pregnancy to her mother in order to trap her man. A drunk goes to an alternative church to seek redemption. A gambler just can't kick the habit. Showgirls prove they have aspirations for greatness too. Sounds like the perfect '90s 12-step melodrama, yet the author, Damon Runyon, wrote the original stories for the comedy "Guys and Dolls" almost half a century ago.

Did Runyon and "Guys and Dolls" composer-lyricist Frank Loesser intend to produce social commentary or just a nonstop explosion of dance and song representing all that's great and awful about New York City? Adam Hess, director of MUSKET's production of this romantic comedy, thinks they meant to do both.

"We chose the show for MUSKET's 40th anniversary because we could rely on it as an excellent musical," Hess said. "(Yet), because the original writers had the limitations of the '50s to deal with, we can now tell the story they intended to, but couldn't because of their audience. We can tell a truer story."

By setting the comedy in the Post World War II era, rather than the original '30s time period, MUSKET examines a preexisting age much like Runyon did when writing in the '50s but staging the story in the '30s. Rather than comment on the time period though, MUSKET uses the new setting "to give a stronger sense of background to the audience." Said Hess, "I disagree with updating for the sake of updating, but we have justified the few changes we made."

Because the show now takes place after the men come home from war, the inclusion of stronger women's roles seemed like a given to Hess. "The opening scene is a montage of the time and atmosphere, so we have bobby-soxers chasing a Frank Sinatra character, tourists with their new cameras, and women strikers picketing their old jobs," noted Hess.

To emphasize the growing strength of women in this era, three of the male roles have been switched to female roles. "We changed the role of Big Julie, the gangster from Chicago, to a female role and the four-foot-tall, tough Mary Archbold is fabulous in the role. She controls the whole Crap Game Dance," remarked Hess fondly. "(The gender switch) works perfectly for the show and the time. We researched the period and found a group of female gangsters from Chicago called the Michigan Babies. They would send their sexiest member to seduce a male and then rob him. We figured Big Julie was one of them sent to New York."

Of the other altered roles, Arvide, the formerly known bass drum playing, grandfather figure to Sarah Brown was changed to Aunt Arvide (Heather Albrecht). "The role wasn't gender-specific and we thought the audience would get a better feel for Sarah (the love-struck missionary, played by Allison Lane) if she had a female idol and inspiration," Hess explained.

The final change took place in Lieutenant Brannigan (Kimberly Woodman), a cop who lives to catch the down-on-his-luck gambler, Nathan Detroit (Randy Kurstin). "We knew that the first female cop was in 1912 in Los Angeles so (authentically-speaking) we were OK," Hess said.

For all those who have either memorized the book or are seeing the show for the first time, not to worry. The story of two star-crossed couples remains the same. Miss Adelaide (Margaret Chmiel), a night club singer, longs for her fiancee of 14 years, the gambling Nathan Detroit, to set the date for the wedding. Unfortunately, he is more interested in shooting craps.

In an effort to secure a thousand dollars, Nathan bets his cohort, Sky Masterson (Andy Sievers), that Sky can't convince the next girl he sees to go to Cuba with him. To Sky's dismay, the next girl he sees is Sarah Brown, the bible-beating, soul-saving missionary. Sky knows he's slick enough to get her to Havana, but he doesn't realize he may lose his heart in the deal. This dynamic musical speaks to all lovers about compromise, longevity, and irrationality -- all the while integrating the witty lyrics, gangster-esque book, and high-energy dance numbers.

MUSKET's seemingly feminist perspective shouldn't frighten anyone. Miss Adelaide and Sarah still sing the anthem, "Marry the Man Today," and the Hot Box dancers still shake their thing during memorable numbers such as "Take Back Your Mink" and "Bushel and a Peck." The romance between the seemingly straightlaced Sarah Brown and the sly Sky Masterson still steams. Nathan Detroit still searches for a place to hold his floating crap game and poor Adelaide still laments.