The Pirates of Penzance: It's...

Oh, now I get it…  often!

Pardon me.

If you find yourself checking your ticket stub during the opening moments of New York City Opera's grandly silly production of Gilbert and Sullivan's The Pirates of Penzance just to make sure you hadn't wandered into Spamalot by mistake, then credit director Lillian Groag for achieving her stated goal of book-ending the G&S wit with the humor of Lewis Carroll and that of Monty Python.  In the hilarious prologue she inserts to accompany Sullivan's overture, no doubt inspired by the highbrow stream of consciousness animation of Terry Gilliam, a pantomime puppet show depicts a humongous Queen Victoria watching a pirate ship sink the HMS Titanic by hurling an iceberg at it.  Cutouts of Alice in Wonderland and the March Hare have excellent box seats in which to view a Sergeant of Police who seems to have been transferred to the force from the Liza Minnelli Division of the Ministry of Silly Walks.  The set is kept clean by employees of D'oyly Carte's janitorial services while a flesh and blood Queen Victoria pops up throughout the proceedings, seemingly unamused.

If it all seems a little too much, remember we're talking about the topsy-turvy world of Gilbert and Sullivan, where the insanely nonsensical is a natural occurrence.  And under all the trimmings, conductor Gerald Steichen's cast delivers a well-sung and heartily performed operetta in its traditional manner.

The searing drama involves young Frederick (Matt Morgan), who, because his nursery maid Ruth (Myrna Paris) was hard of hearing, has been made apprentice to a pirate instead of to the intended pilot.  Though a rough and dangerous lot, the pirates are tenderhearted when it comes to orphans, vowing never to harm one who has been left parentless.  Unfortunately for them, word has gotten around and everyone they attack escapes their wrath by claiming to be an orphan.

Frederick deplores their dishonest ways but considers himself a slave of duty and remains loyal to The Pirate King (Marc Kudisch) until his contract expires on his 21^st birthday.  When the happy day arrives he leaves the swashbuckling bunch to find himself among the multitude of daughters fathered by Major General Stanley (Mark Jacoby) and falls in love with the kind and sympathetic Mabel (Sarah Jane McMahon).  After the pirates sneak ashore and abduct the ladies for the purpose of marriage – yes, these are pirates who believe in commitment and the sanctity of marriage – Frederick vows to fight against them until he learns of a loophole in his apprenticeship that binds him to the Jolly Roger once again.

The Pirate King is a natural role for Marc Kudisch, whose muscular vocals accompany a dunderheaded frat-boy swagger.  Jacoby is a nimbly comic Major General, impressively quick in his famous patter tune.  Myrna Paris gets some great laughs out of overdramatically using her powerful pipes and set designer John Conklin, who dresses the stage in an inspired hodgepodge of pieces, heightens the mock-tragedy of her unrequited love for Frederick by lowering a cutout of a lush red curtain behind her every time she professes her passion.

McMahon's ravishingly self-indulgent "Poor Wand'ring One" (she tosses rose petals in her own path on her entrance) and Morgan's near-doltish sincerity during the most absurd of romantic plot twists are both terrific fun, as is Kevin Burdette's bursts of giddy strutting as the otherwise cowardly Sergeant of Police.

The only thing missing is the dead parrot.

Photos by Carol Rosegg:  Top:  Sarah Jane McMahon and Matt Morgan

Center:  Marc Kudisch and Company

Bottom:  Mark Jacoby and Marc Kudisch