Timothy (Andrew Leggieri), Randall (Charles Osborne), and Antonio (Gilberto Saenz) are celebrating Randall’s 30th birthday and New York State’s legalization of same-sex marriage, in Little House on the Ferry. Chorus member Manuela Agudelo is behind them.
Sashay away? Nah, in Little House on the Ferry the drag queen tap-dances—and it’s just one of the old-fashioned musical-theater pleasures of this exuberant production, described in promotional material as an “immersive nightclub musical.”
Yes, Little House does involve audience participation and a cabaret venue. But it also has hallmarks of a traditional musical: an up-tempo, scene-setting, all-hands-on-deck (literally, they’re on the ferry) opening number; a score that helps tell the story; and an ensemble, albeit an ensemble of just three.
The three incredibly talented young women—Kailin Brown, Manuela Agudelo and Kelsey Rogers—turn almost every song into a production number, filling the stage with gusto, sex appeal and terrific dancing (plus roller-skating by Agudelo) as they take on a variety of roles, from Eastern European spa attendants to a chorus line of brides to those pesky Fire Island deer. Drag queen Xana DuMe (Felipe Galganni), too, plays multiple characters and does plenty of dancing.
Xana DuMe (the drag persona of Felipe Galganni) is looking for tips on Fire Island; Jake (Troy Valjean Rucker) is looking for love.
Robert Gould, the attorney-turned-songwriter who created Little House, began writing it more than a decade ago. So it’s now a period piece, set during the weekend in June of 2011 when New York State legalized same-sex marriage. The gay men headed for their house share on Fire Island are closely following the news out of Albany (where the Marriage Equality Act is being considered in a late-night Senate session) as they dash to Penn Station, ride the LIRR out to Sayville and take the $5 van—cash only!—to the ferry.
Their travels are enacted in immersive fashion: Audience members, seated encircling the performance floor, are treated like fellow passengers—and the sequence’s propulsive pace and announcements from train conductors, the van driver and ferry crew give the audience a sense of moving along with the guys. It’s cleverly staged and gets the show off to a rollicking start. Later on, audience members may be served planter’s punch, just like the characters are drinking, or asked to temporarily relocate so actors can use their seats to play a scene.
The main characters of Little House are Randall, an aspiring writer employed as a magazine fact-checker; Timothy, his wealthy and supercilious lawyer boyfriend; and Antonio, Randall’s young and new to New York coworker. Their host on Fire Island is an older friend, Donnie, who lives in the titular house:
One of the last original houses left in the Pines,
Unlike those big, nameless McMansions decorated to the nines.
In ’65 on the mainland it was so carefully built
Then floated over on a ferry and dropped right here on stilts.
While Donnie schools Antonio on customs of the Pines, and Antonio teaches Donnie about internet lingo and hookup apps, Randall and Timothy talk about the nuptials they can now officially plan. At least Randall talks about it—Timothy is more occupied with work and spa treatments. That leaves Randall susceptible to the attentions of Jake, a smitten visitor from out of state who’s come to Fire Island for the annual charity hoedown, and who happens to be the author of Randall’s favorite blog.
Christopher Harrod (left) portrays Donnie, with Charles Osborne as Randall. Photographs by Austin Ruffer.
All the actors are well cast. Charles Osborne is a sympathetic protagonist as Randall. Christopher Harrod provides some sincerely sentimental moments as Donnie, while Gilberto Saenz has fun with Antonio, a part that’s the spawn of Will & Grace’s Jack McFarland and Hank Azaria in The Birdcage. Andrew Leggieri (Timothy) handles the challenge of playing a love interest who’s also the villain, and Troy Valjean Rucker makes a sweet Jake.
Little House on the Ferry’s score, cowritten by Gould and Rob Arbelo, contains some unsophisticated lyrics and a few numbers that serve no purpose other than amusement (e.g., “Steroid Queen”). Many of the songs do support the story lines or express inner monologues, though—and some are both narrative and silly, as when Randall sorts out his feeling about Timothy and Jake with an assist from seagulls on the beach (“Prey”), or when Jake, contemplating his own love life, is counseled by fish he sees from the pier (“Meant for Me”).
That fish number brings one of the dozen or so costume changes for the chorus, all their colorful outfits realized in vivid detail by costume designer Tyler M. Holland. His everyday attire for the guys is nicely character specific, most notably Donnie’s patterned shirt-and-shorts matching sets. Director Victoria Rae Sook and her creative team did a lot of imaginative work at adapting the production for the space, and Michael McCrary’s choreography merits recognition as well.
Musicals succeed due to some magical alchemy of the music, onstage talent, production values and subject matter. Little House on the Ferry, a show that’s like a Pride after-party featuring the Ziegfeld Follies, offers that magic.
Little House on the Ferry runs through Jan. 5 at Ferry’s Landing in the Duplex (Christopher St. and 7th Ave.). Performances are 7:30 p.m. Tuesday through Sunday; littlehouseontheferry.com.
Book: Robert Gould
Music & Lyrics: Robert Gould and Rob Arbelo
Director: Victoria Rae Sook
Choreography: Michael McCrary
Sets: Shawn Lewis
Costumes: Tyler M. Holland
Lighting: Zach Pizza
Sound: Ryk Lewis
