I like Ann-Margret, truly I do. The more mature version of her, anyway. I couldn't dig her in her Bye Bye Birdie heyday; but I love me some Grumpy Old Men Ann-Margret. Plus, she's a Biker Chick, which automatically makes her Cool by me. But after watching this Cool Biker Chick on stage in The Best Little Whorehouse In Texas, it pains me to say this: I've Known Miss Mona; sorry, Ann-Margret, but you're no Dolly Parton. The Story (WARNING: **spoilers contained below**) Based on a true story and set in the early 1970s, The Best Little Whorehouse In Texas tells the tale of the sleepy town of Gilbert, Texas, where madam Mona Stangley (Ann-Margret) and her Ladies Of Leisure keep up the fine tradition of...Entertaining menfolk, which has been going on at the Chicken Ranch for purt' near 150 years. The Chicken Ranch - to put it bluntly, a brothel - is the worst-kept secret in Texas; laymen [heh] and politician alike have used the facilities, with little more than a wink and a nod from officials like Mayor Poindexter, Senator Wingwhoah (Matt Landers), the Governor (Ed Dixon), all of whom have enjoyed the company of the Ranch's ladylike Ladies. But there's trouble brewin' in town, and its name is Melvin P. Thorpe (Rob Donohoe), Watch Dog "journalist". Thorpe is a (self)righteous televangelist out to rid the town of Gilbert of Bad Stuff - and Sheriff Ed Earl Dodd (Gary Sandy) doesn't like Thorpe one bit. After Ed Earl very colorfully "explains his position" to Thorpe, on live TV, Thorpe gets a burr up his butt to go after the Sheriff through the Chicken Ranch that the Sheriff helps to protect. Suddenly, hypocrisy rules the day, and the formerly supportive officials, now denounce Miss Mona and her girls. Things come to a head [heh] when the Aggie football team win The Big Game, and come a'courtin' the ladies, and the Watch Dog picks up the scent... The Upshot It was inevitable, I reckon, that I would compare this [waaaay] off-Broadway version of The Best Little Whorehouse In Texas to its movie version. Yes, I know the play came first; but after all, I am primarily a movie Chick. Not that the movie version of TBLWIT was any big shakes; except for a couple cute songs (and a kickass performance by Charles Durning as the Governor), the movie was rather easy to forget. And it's not that Dolly Parton was a grand thespian, either; it may be more that Dolly just gave a little...something...to the part that Ann-Margret didn't. As I reflect on what I saw in Miss Parton that I didn't see from Miss -Margret, the difference becomes clear: Dolly Parton had fire in her belly (or at least in her twang). For the most part, Ann-Margret just seemed to be quietly mouthing lines. I was never convinced that her Mona had a passion for anything; not the Chicken Ranch, not fighting the pissant [I do so like that word] Watch Dog, and certainly not her unrequited love, Ed Earl. To be fair, TBLWIT is Ann-Margret's stage debut. And the poor stage miking certainly didn't help; I had to constantly strain to hear most of the sparse dialogue, finally giving up when I realized that the actual story seemed to be of less importance than the song-and-dance behind it. To that end, one would've thought that the female chorus of the TBLWIT - primarily singers and dancers, playing Ladies Of The Evening - would've been chomping at the bit to fill in the gap; but they missed a prime opportunity. Except for one funny, and somewhat shocking suggestion of actual coitus at the beginning of the play, the Chicken Ranch Chicks just didn't hatch my eggs. On a positive note or three, though, Gary "WKRP In Cincinnati" Sandy wrecked sh...uh, I mean, gave a splendid performance as the wonderfully foul-mouthed Sheriff, Ed Earl Dodd. He easily made me ask myself, "Burt Who?". Sandy rocked the house, y'all; his curse-filled "country dawg in the city" line had me rolling. Avery Sommers (Jewel) definitely had the pipes for her part, though "her part", like most of the rest when dealing with the Ranch women, was never really fleshed out. And while never made me forget Durning's Oscar-nominated film performance, Ed Dixon did add his own unique twist to the part that was enjoyable to see and hear. Even if his (and most of the others') Texas Twang was completely overexaggerated. The background players added nice support - especially the male dancers, whose "The Aggie Song" was quite rousing. But when this production replaced Parton's signature "I Will Always Love You" (yes, the "Whitney Houston song") with the very lame "A Friend To Me" - which followed an equally disappointing rendition of "Hard Candy Christmas" - the curtain came down on my enjoyment. Not even a rousing finale (with a shouted "God Bless America!" from the leads; ironic, after this play's tongue-lashing of pseudo-patriotism) could bring this one back for me. Bammer's Bottom Line I wanted to be able to say here that "Ann-Margret conquers another medium with her vibrant performance in this off-off-OFF-Broadway success!". But that'd be a lie; sorry ma'am. I do hope to see Gary Sandy in another play sometime soon, though; I got a kick out of him. But unless you're a die-hard fan of Ann-Margret's, the off-Broadway run of The Best Little Whorehouse In Texas probably won't twang your gee-tar. Bummer. THE BEST LITTLE WHOREHOUSE IN TEXAS:    back to top And that's the way I see it. Rose "Bams" Cooper 3BlackChicks Review™ Copyright Rose Cooper, 2001 EMAIL: bams@3blackchicks.com    ICQ: 7760005 http://www.3blackchicks.com/