Pigs is Pigs | Performing Arts Review | Chicago Reader

Pigs is Pigs 

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PIGS IS PIGS, Annoyance Theatre. About half of this self-described "white trash musical" is clever enough to be engaging; sadly, most of the wit comes during the first half of the show. The cast (and creators) of this trailer-park gothic saga of star-crossed lovers Marvin, the cranky dwarf, and Sheila, the vapid queen of cellulite, spend too much time whooping, guzzling, and scratching themselves and not enough fueling some engine that might drive the show out of its potty-mouthed complacency. A half dozen jokes about painful corns is five too many.

A deeper problem undercuts even the most successful material. Wrapped in an air of defiant brattiness, Pigs Is Pigs makes fun of people who smell bad, sweat, burp, fart, have weight problems, get crabs, or walk around half dressed. The show's opening lyrics set the tone: "Down on the rural route we're kicking back / Wearing our pants that show our crack." On its most fundamental level--and at every turn--Pigs Is Pigs reinforces disgust and contempt for the human body. Pretty bourgeois stuff after all.

--Justin Hayford

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