Duke Players '[title of show]' knows that it's a musical

The theater has no fourth wall. Although meta humor and fourth wall smashing have become staples of movies, television and other mediums in an attempt to refresh otherwise hackneyed tropes by pointing them out to the audience, theater has been making use of these devices for decades. With no fourth wall — quite literally — and no certainty a performance will run smoothly due to the hundreds of variables being juggled by cast and crew alike, the medium is perfectly suited for the in-jokes and nods to the live audience watching that remind them that what they’re watching isn’t real — it’s just a show. 

That total obliteration of the fourth wall drives "[title of show]", the latest Duke Players production. The show — penned Hunter Bell and Jeff Bowen — is a total deconstruction of itself, a one-act musical that is constantly aware of the fact that it is a musical. It revolves around Bowen and Bell, as well as their friends Susan Blackwell and Heidi Blickenstaff (also playing themselves), writing a musical about their attempt to write a musical in the three weeks before a New York theater festival deadline. The plot of the show is also the backstory to its real-life conception: Bell and Bowen really did write a large portion of the show in three weeks, submit it to the festival and find surprising success that eventually led to an off-Broadway run, Broadway performances and a Tony nomination for Best Book of a Musical. Blickenstaff graduated from Duke in 1994.

In spite of the success and notoriety that “[title of show]” has since found, it is still fundamentally a quirky, handmade musical crafted for an audience of theatergoers, and Duke Players nails that blend of obscure oddity, meta humor and sincere passion for the art without ever missing a beat. With a set so bare-bones that it barely qualifies as a stage and just four cast members, the group captivates the audience for the entirety of the show’s 90-minute run, stuffing every second with laughs and rousing performances that will make even the most jaded audience member crack a smile.

Although every aspect of the musical is great — from the efficient lighting to the energetic yet conservative choreography — what really makes this production sing is its cast. A lesser ensemble might have struggled with really selling the admittedly unusual premise and some of the more bizarre jokes and amazingly obscure references, but the four cast members here are each uniquely suited for their respective roles. 

Sophomore Bryn Lawson is an absolute knockout as Blickenstaff, starting out as the most levelheaded of the group in an understated performance that evolves into something more complex as the show progresses, culminating in a ballad that flaunts Lawson’s powerful vocals and her emotional range. Sophomore Sarah Jacobs matches her as Blackwell, breathing such life into her wonderfully eccentric character that she steals nearly every scene she’s in; her vocals are also stunning, particularly on the weirdly inspiring number “Die, Vampire, Die!” And sophomores Turner Jordan and CJ Cruz tackle the roles with Bowen and Bell, respectively, with gorgeous aplomb. Cruz especially is excellent: There is no line that is not made better by his charismatic, hilariously timed delivery and no lyric that is not improved by his room-filling voice. 

Their chemistry is practically electric, imbuing every scene with a lived-in quality that makes the goofy antics and nods to the audience feel less gimmicky and more sincere. It truly feels like four people putting on a show. 

In addition to the remarkable cast, director Maria Zurita Ontiveros must be commended for her hand in staging such a refreshing, effervescent production and getting such wonderful performances out of her actors. It is their energy that prevents the show from ever sputtering to a halt. Some scenes, particularly in the less fun second-half of the musical, threaten to wear out the show’s somewhat tenuous premise, and not every joke or reference is as clever as the show would like to believe. However, the cast holds out until the very last second, keeping the audience engaged even when the story around them weakens. 

“[title of show]” is a musical for a specific audience, one that can tolerate an unending onslaught of meta jokes that constantly draw attention to the multiple layers of storytelling and reality being presented, and one that will appreciate the esoteric winks to other musicals and theater itself. One could easily become frustrated with the occasionally smarmy sense of cleverness that permeates the whole show, but instead of becoming an exercise in self-reference and lampshading, the stripped-down and excellently acted production crafted by Duke Players is a more gently self-deprecating, genuinely heartfelt version of this show within a show that feels just as spontaneous and fun as the initial work done by Bell and Bowen.