Wanting nothing more than to crack some jokes and entertain us, Shucked offers us a heaping helping of hospitality and plenty of yucks. That’s all and, in this case, it’s enough.
Set in the mythical rural paradise of Cobb County, somewhere Down South, this hootenanny of hilarity is thin on story but heavy on puns and one-liners. The plot centers on a failed corn crop, blighted romance, and a visiting con man who is less honorable than Professor Harold Hill.
In Robert Horn’s laugh-crammed book, this premise is secondary to the cascade of jokes, only two of which I had heard before—one was originally from Redd Foxx, the other a chestnut courtesy of Rodney Dangerfield. Just a random sample of the more original gags: “I wonder what people in China call their good plates” and “I remember when we played sandcastles with Grandma…until Grandpa hid her urn.” Even though most of these gems are non-sequiturs, there’s a genuine giggle every few seconds. Brandy Clark and Shane McAnally’s score is equally mirth-inducing.
Director Jack O’Brien does his customary brilliant work of keeping the tempo at the right comic pace. The young cast are all masters of timing and the non-binary performer Alex Newell is a stand-out as a sassy whiskey peddler belting out an anthem of independence. Ashley D. Kelley and Grey Henson are sweetly sincere as the narrators. Caroline Innerbichler, Andrew Durand and John Behlmann sparkle as the three points of a romantic triangle and Kevin Cahoon garners guffaws doing the hayseed schtick. Shucked is totally unrealistic—it imagines a rural community with interracial families peacefully coexisting with NRA enthusiasts—but that’s its point. The show is a silly fantasy, imagining an idealistic utopia where everyone is accepted—so different from our current divided nation. A nice way to spend an evening.
