How to describe the one- man musical “Bubs”? That order’s taller than its lanky, likable star, Erik Sandvold.
“Bubs” is a quirky, quick-change rock musical, with diverse tuneage leaning mostly toward countrified honk. It’s one man, backed by a joyful six-piece band that jams creatively on two dozen instruments, provides peppy harmonies and sometimes even joins in on the choreography.
Sandvold plays 28 characters, but the primary narrator is a young adult songwriter looking back on a miserable childhood softened only by his alcoholic father’s creative, musical bedtime stories.
Will’s dad is a failed songwriter who, when abandoned by his wife, is left to raise their 6-year-old alone. By day, he wallows in booze and self-pity. By night, he rolls out the “Bubs,” his series of fun, fictional characters who love what they do, and don’t get paid a lot for it. Who make their own definition of success, society be damned.
They range from a Haight- Ashbury hippie to a punk rocker to a cowboy philosopher to self-reliant bum named Teddible. They’re all outcasts. But few of them are happy, which is thematically confusing.
Will’s dad is a “Bub,” too. He’s entertaining his son while instilling a caustic life lesson. He’s also a total hypocrite, an embittered career loser, a drunk who’s otherwise a complete failure as a father.
So . . . how to describe “Bubs”? Let’s try … confessional monologue . . . backed by the Modern Lovers … and the Soggy Bottom Boys? A pitiable life, set to a joyful score?
“Bubs” is clearly a labor of love for writers Cy Frost and Doug Olson — and more than a decade in the making. It is correctly billed as unapologetically different. Musically, it’s a total party. But as a piece of theater, it would be a whole lot easier to love if it weren’t so desperate for us to do so. And if it didn’t swing so wildly and roughly between merry live concert to dour narrative. And if it didn’t go off on a long and indecipherable “Count Chocula” tangent.
Confessional tales often come across as the equivalent of stage therapy, but “Bubs” is fictional, which makes some creative choices seem all the more odd.
First, what’s to be gained by having the story performed by just one man? Sandvold won a bucket of awards for Curious’ one-man “I Am My Own Wife,” and “Bubs” makes for tour-de-force character work. He gives it his last drop of sweat. So “Bubs” doesn’t need 28 actors — but it could certainly use two. Any father-son story begs for the interaction between one father and one son.
Others more accustomed to traditional stage musicals will be quick to hail “Bubs” as unlike anything you’ve ever heard, which is true — within the medium.
But within the larger pop genre, “Bubs” feels far too familiar. Nicely put: Almost every song sounds like an homage to a rock icon. Less nice: Almost every song sounds derivative. There’s the Bob Dylan song, the Violent Femmes song, the Chris Isaak song.
“Bubs” does push the boundaries of musical theater. But after demonstrating such initial structural originality, it leaps into a regrettably predictable and indulgently sentimental climax. Why, if your childhood was so lousy, does every lousy childhood story have to become about going home?
As human and emotionally naked as Sandvold’s performance is, he’s not a pitch-perfect singer. And the vocal mix at the Avenue Theater is sketchy.
“Bubs” wants to be a bittersweet musical about life not being fair, and learning to get over it. But ultimately, it doesn’t make a fully convincing case for its own argument.
John Moore: 303-954-1056 or jmoore@denverpost.com
“Bubs: A One-Man Musical”
The Avenue Theater, 417 E. 17th Ave. Written by Cy Frost and Doug Olson. Directed by Warren Sherrill. Starring Erik Sandvold. Through Sept. 20. 2 hours, 20 minutes. 7:30 p.m. Thursdays and Fridays; 7 p.m. and 9:15 p.m. Saturdays. $25. 303-321-5925 or or
