When audiences walk into the Kroc Center to take in Aspire Community Theatre's new production of Spamalot, the Monty Python-esque sendup of musical theater and Arthurian legend, it might seem like the show has spilled out from behind the curtain.
"We want the viewer to walk in and be like, 'Oh, we're being transported into medieval times, into Camelot,'" says scenic co-designer Wendy Inman.
"We're creating a facade out of foam and wood, and when we're done with it, hopefully it'll look like we built a castle stone by stone with mortar and the whole bit," says her counterpart, Greg Washington. "I've always liked the idea of creating an immersive experience — think of shows like Cats on Broadway, where they have garbage cans in the house, and you feel like you're in it."
Once the curtain rises, the duo is also making use of high-tech projections and the theater's updated fly system to move set elements in and out of the scene at a speed that keeps up with the fast-paced comedy.
"Basically," Washington says, "there's a one-liner like, 'Remember, boys, what happens in Camelot, stays in Camelot.' And then, boom, within a couple seconds we have to turn this medieval setting into a Vegas-style setting."
As he and Inman work to envelop the audience in the musical's fictional world, its director, Tracey Benson, is simultaneously trying to make sure that some of the production's framework "shows at the seams." That might seem like an odd goal in the world of theater, where suspension of disbelief is so pivotal to the experience. But revealing the show's inner workings feeds into Spamalot's sense of self-awareness.
"One of the biggest things for me is that this production is by and large poking fun at Broadway. It's a satire in a satire in a satire," she says. "And so it has all of the hallmarks of breaking the fourth wall, where we're not trying to present anything as 100% realism. Yes, we're inviting the audience to be a part of it, but we're also always reminding them that they're watching a Broadway production."
The authentic yet absurdist set design certainly isn't the only way that Spamalot indulges in meta commentary. The core plot has been adapted — or, as the full title unabashedly states, "(Lovingly) Ripped off" — from the 1975 cult film Monty Python and the Holy Grail to create something that's more in keeping with the aspirational, feel-good narratives we traditionally associate with Broadway.
"There's this through-line of finding your grail," Benson says. "It's really all about finding what moves you, what your passion is."
Spamalot's Sir Robin (played here by Jeffrey Parsons), distinguished in the film for his lack of bravery, now has song-and-dance ambitions instead. And the musical also introduces an entirely new principal character, the Lady of the Lake.
"When they were turning this movie into a musical, she brought the Broadway," says Emma Hoit, who plays the Lady of the Lake. "She's a diva. She's showbiz. She's fabulous. She's sparkly. And she won't let anyone else be the lead of a song. I'm actually dipping the male characters at multiple points in the show."
The Lady of the Lake embodies some of the musical's meta qualities with the self-referential second-act song, "Whatever Happened to My Part?"
"It's a lot of fun. In that song she's complaining about how she hasn't been on stage," Hoit says. "I get to be angry and a little bit crazy because she just wants to be the star."
Yet, however unwillingly, the Lady of the Lake still has to share the spotlight with King Arthur, played by Thomas Gandy.
"I feel like King Arthur is a sane man in an insane world. He's the voice of reason when people get too ridiculous. But, at the same time, he can be bombastic and overblown. When it serves his kingly ego, he's OK with the ridiculousness," he says.
As an example, Gandy cites the quest party's arrival in Camelot. In the Holy Grail film, Arthur is notably unimpressed with the Knights of the Round Table's raucous kickline number and turns away before he's even entered the castle. Whereas in Spamalot, "there's an even bigger musical number, and instead of passing it off as too silly, he takes part in it because it serves his grandiose image of himself."
Like Benson, whose Monty Python fandom helped compel her into the director's chair, Gandy is an aficionado of Holy Grail as well as the other Python material from which Spamalot lovingly pilfers, like Life of Brian (1979). And, as he notes, there's no shortage of quotable lines, hummable songs and favorite characters from those works, such as his faithful companion Patsy (James Wigdahl), the Knights Who Say Ni or the killer rabbit.
More than a tribute to classic Monty Python, though, he describes Spamalot as a love letter — albeit a madcap, irreverent one — to the very genre it calls home.
"There's Liza Minnelli stuff, Patti LuPone stuff, Barbra Streisand stuff" embedded in the show itself, and choreographer Jasmine Inman has gone one step further to include "Easter eggs" from Grease, West Side Story and Cats.
"It's like kitchen sink-ing. If it exists on the stage, it's shoehorned somewhere into this show. But what you gain is something that the film sorely lacks. If you recall, Holy Grail famously ends with the police arresting the knights and turning off the camera," he says.
"Because this is a musical, we give our audience the ending that the movie never got." ♦
Spamalot • Feb. 8-18; Thu-Sat at 7:30 pm, Sat-Sun at 2 pm • $22-$28 • Kroc Center • 1765 W. Golf Course Rd., Coeur d'Alene • aspirecda.com • 208-696-4228
