Musical Review: The Boss in the Satin Kimono

Does two nuns, a whore, a closeted lesbian and a Latin side-kick sound like the intro to a side-splitting joke? Or perhaps the guest list to my last family reunion? Wrong. It’s just a few of the tantalizing taboo topics in The Boss in the Satin Kimono.

The Boss in the Satin Kimono (Book & Lyrics by Blake Hacker and Composer Steven Silverstein with Additional Music by Paul Ford) is an off-Broadway musical comedy that weaves together a beautiful and touching story of soup kitchens and whorehouses—not to mention incest and perversion (And they say you can’t go home again!) by bringing unlikely characters onstage to sing deranged tales of woe—like Jessica Simpson’s new country album. Maybe Jessica should hire the services of Nate Festinger, the Musical Director of this erotic and spicy tale because she’ll need more than short shorts and hair extensions to push this puppy to market.

This truly is an ensemble show. And thank God, cause as soon as you're about to doze off from a long and drawn-out monologue, a new actor appears to bring you back into the moment and reconnect with the performance. Unfortunately, not even a team of AT&T operators could reconnect the old fat man sitting behind me as his chorus of snores was at times louder than the staged performances. (I think someone from the show should offer me a refund or at least give me comp tickets to see the show without distractions or snores)

The music was fun, the libretto was well-crafted, the set was minimalistic but it worked, and the costumes had great flare—this costume designer can really dress a whore. All these elements revealed a twisted, funny, witty, and erotic story of irony, flashbacks and the enterpernual spirit. God helps those who help themselves, even if it is to keep a whorehouse in business.

Erin Buckley (Lady Maybelline Jones) had the stage presence of a pro. It was like watching a reincarnated Vicki Lawrence (Mama’s Family) with a better set of legs up on stage. Her comedic timing was on point and her last line, “I’m worn out, just like the audience,” received a heavy burst of laughter—were we laughing with her or at her?  

Jim Noonan plays Mother Marcus, the show-stealing nun whose perverted glue kept the show together. Her, or should I say his performance was flawless. Mother Marcus never missed a beat which made me miss her/him when he/she wasn't around. Ah, musical theater—there’s nothing like watching a performer in a gender-bending performance, like attending a Michael Jackson or Prince concert. “Come to my loom, Sue. Skip to my loom,” He/she eerily says before committing acts of perversion that would make the writers of Law & Order SVU scream like little girls. You’ll be haunted by Jim’s hilarious performance for many nights to come.

Kyla Garcia’s version of “Jacinta,” the sultry Latin side-kick had a little Rita Moreno vibe to it, but Rita never would have fluctuated between: “Should the audience hear me or not?” This roller coaster sound-ride was worse than the broken down Cyclone on Coney Island. In the end, she “brought it on,” with her metaphoric memory about bird poop in her mother’s rice. It was as if I was listening to Shakespeare.

Sue, played by Emily Senn, was the other nun in this wicked tale of temptation and sex crimes. Emily was a smash hit from the start. Her vocals brought the house down—even the fat man behind me stopped snoring during her numbers. She had the voice of an angel and the songs definitely showcased her talents. I’m sure Broadway will soon be seeing a lot of Emily—both the fat man and I will be keeping an eye out!

Emily Dorsch (Renata St. James) and Jody Cook (Rhonda Marquez/The Bishop) were phenomenal. Both gave a performance worth clapping for. Renata’s character had a little Marica Cross vibe—both “desperate and housewifey” while Rhonda was a cross between my old Lesbian P.E. coach and a Wonder Woman Drag Queen I once saw in P-Town. When the heat gets turned on in the soup kitchen, these two ladies will not only take it—but handle their business like a true bipolar-manic depressant.  

Will the nun and whore save their soup kitchen/whorehouse in time to hand out another bowl of soup and dish out another case of the clap? Or will their dream get stomped on in the middle of their perverted tracks? There is only one way to find out—“Come to the loom,” and find out.

For more info on this "must-see" show:
http://bossinthesatinkimono.com/