Imagine you’re watching your favorite Saturday morning cartoon. After a hair-raising adventure, some sinister archvillain has your favorite superhero enveloped in syrupy goo. Shaggy? Batman? The Powerpuff Girls? No matter. You just know somehow, some way, the good guys (or girls) will extract themselves from this sticky situation, just in the nick of time.
No such luck for the protagonists of the syrupy “Music From a Sparkling Planet,” being gamely staged by the Firehouse Theatre. Douglas Carter Beane’s play is original, witty and filled with funny banter. But after a promising start it loses its course, chokes on its own sentimentality, jettisons believability and burns out like a shooting star.
But not before some wonderful and endearing moments along the way.
Shamelessly appealing to the same 40ish demographic who will be camping out in May to be first to see Emile Hirsch in “Speed Racer,” Beane in 2001 concocted what The New York Times aptly called “an escapist play about escapism.”
Though it plays out too much like one, this is not a true biographical drama. Tamara Tomorrow (a.k.a. fictional Sharon Phipps) was the 1970s hostess of Saturday cartoons for a Philadelphia TV station. The “old-fashioned gal from the year 3005” built a huge following with bold assurances of a hopeful future — something that, outside of Woody Allen’s “Sleeper,” has been almost unheard of in our pop culture the past half-century (thanks to dark sourballs like Ray Bradbury, George Orwell and Ridley Scott).
Cut to 2008: Wags (Gene Kato), Miller (Andy Anderson) and Hoagie (Joel Sutliffe) are disparate childhood pals who gather regularly to quaff beers and quiz one another on cartoon trivia. This enduring friendship is concocted, for they now have really nothing in common but Tamara, the first woman each of them ever loved (yes, even the gay one).
These likable guys, now pushing 40, each has a serious commitment screw loose: a lawyer who reacts to news of a pregnant girlfriend like a panic-stricken teen; a gay man who abandons a critically ill partner to chill with his straight pals; a sweet “head of meat” workout trainer who can’t hold a job. This is tired terrain — guys who can’t seem to grow up. And these three do what guys like them do: They go on the run. Their Vision Quest: to find out why Tamara Tomorrow suddenly disappeared from public view, and their TV screens, three decades before.
It’s a strong premise, with loads of second-act storytelling potential. These little boys lost, and the hardened woman they track down, have all abandoned the hope of (Tamara) Tomorrow. They’re all afraid of life.
But rather than take us on a deeper exploration of friendship, responsibility and dreams lost in space, Beane gets mired in an opposite and uninteresting subplot having to do with comebacks, contracts and minute legalese.
Director Bernie Cardell has assembled a talented but self-conscious ensemble, one that’s practically pleading like Sally Field for your approval. Those lacking a jaundiced bone will relish in that sentiment. I tried, Sally. I really tried. But given what you know these guys really need to get from Tamara, Beane has them asking all the wrong questions.
Though I greatly admire this hardworking, sincere cast, the gigantic asteroid in the room is the casting of young Jessica Clare as Tamara.
While the three lucky pals get to stay 40ish throughout, Clare faces the impossible task of convincingly playing both a knockout ’70s TV personality and a 60ish crab. J. Smith-Cameron was 46 when she created the character in New York. Clare has distinguished herself in roles from “Assassins” to “Proof,” but she is by far the youngest member of this cast. So after a winning first act, seeing her un-aged body spin caustic witticisms about hard-learned life lessons comes off as a little silly.
There’s also a noticeable lack of production values. The New York production distinguished itself with a visual eloquence, incorporating TV screens, faux clips and a stylized theatricality. The lack of all that here only makes the script’s superficiality and obvious manipulation all the more evident.
For what is a “Sparkling Planet” without its sparkle?
John Moore: 303-954-1056 or jmoore@denverpost.com
“Music from a Sparkling Planet”
Cartoon drama. Presented by Firehouse Theatre Company at the John Hand Theatre, 7653 E. First Place. Directed by Bernie Cardell. Starring Jessica Clare. Through Feb. 16. 7:30 p.m. Fridays-Saturdays, 6 p.m. Sundays. $14-$17 303-562-3232 or
3 More Plays
“Jeffrey.” Theatre Group presents Paul Rudnick’s outrageous rom-com about a gay man who swears off sex and instead finds love during the AIDS epidemic. 7:30 Fridays-Saturdays (and some Thursdays) through March 1 at Theatre Off Broadway, 1124 Santa Fe Drive. $22 (303-777-3292, )
“Girls Only: The Secret Comedy of Women.” This comedy by and for women (seriously — no dudes allowed through the front door) looks at self-described “girlie milestones,” like first bras, first loves and first heartbreaks. Written and performed by local comedians Barbara Gehring and Linda Klein. Ladies, savor your sisterhood. Exiled guys, consider yourselves lucky. 8 p.m. Thursdays-Saturdays, 2 p.m. Sundays at The Avenue Theater, 417 E. 17th Ave. $20 (303-321-5925, )
“Closer.” A new company called Uncorked Productions debuts with Patrick Marber’s “Closer,” a brutal 1997 relationship drama about four strangers who meet, fall in love and get caught up in an intermingling web of sexual desire and betrayal. The staging includes original compositions by area chanteuse Elizabeth Rose (she performs live at the Jan. 25 performance, tickets $25). 8 p.m. Thursdays-Saturdays at the Bindery Space, 720 22nd St. $12-15 (877-862- 6752 or )
John Moore
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Running Lines with . . . Ted Neeley. On this special, expanded episode, John Moore talks with Ted Neeley, who starred in the seminal 1972 film “Jesus Christ Superstar.” Neeley headlines the national tour playing tonight and Saturday in Avon, and twice Sunday at Denver’s Buell Theatre. One thing we’ll say for him, this Jesus is cool. To listen,
