Capital City's "The World Goes 'Round" is a Mild Evening of Mediocre Theater

After an 18-month pause due to COVID-19, Capital City Theatre is back in the Playhouse at Overture Center. The company that began with quirky, small-scale musicals like Lady Day at Emerson's Bar and Grill and Violet, then moved on to larger, show-stopping productions of On the Town and The Hunchback at Notre Dame, has made its post-pandemic debut with a mediocre, mostly obscure Kander and Ebb musical revue, The World Goes ‘Round.

The production pays cursory homage to the two musicals that made John Kander and Fred Ebb successful — Cabaret and Chicago. But the majority of the show languishes in a strange variety of ballads, comic pieces and songs bemoaning modern life and lost love. (There is also one hoedown.) The result is a disconnected slurry of unfamiliar, not terribly memorable tunes from musicals you’ve never heard of, like 70, Girls, 70; The Rink; The Act; and Flora the Red Menace. They are performed very well, but with energy that has no place to go, since the evening has no thematic thread, little context for individual songs, and few characters to speak of. 

The generic, five-person cast of a leading man (Joe Caskey), an ingenue (Erin Burniston), and three character actors (Taylor Hilt Mitchell, Tyler Symone, and Christine De Frece) have terrific voices and give pleasant, if mild, performances. With resume credits in Chicago, New York, and on national tours, they have no trouble making their entrances, hitting their marks, and executing the conventional, cookie cutter choreography prepared by director Stephen Nachamie. They even do their best to bring distinct personalities to the songs they belt out, but with no connecting text or background on the material to share, the  numbers often blur together. 

Conceived in the 1990s by the legendary choreographer Susan Stroman, director Scott Ellis and librettist David Thompson, The World Goes ‘Round includes a love song to Sara Lee frozen pies; a pre-Starbucks lament about buying coffee in a paper cup instead of sitting down and enjoying a cup of joe at a diner; and a strained comparison of life accomplishments between a famous actress and a housewife in a muumuu. Mixed in with these oddities are the title track from Kiss of the Spider Woman, a meet cute marriage proposal, complete with tap dancing, and a somewhat tentative version of the ubiquitous Chicago number “All That Jazz,” complete with Fosse-esque choreography. 

If the content is a mixed bag, so is the presentation. Some numbers are performed as static solos in a choral uniform of black pants or skirts with a vibrant jewel-toned top. Some are not only fully costumed, they have elaborate set pieces and props. (The enormous inflatable rubber duck was a real high point here.) Some try to recreate the show they are excised from (“All That Jazz”), some seem like a bizarre aside (the silly vaudeville number “Class,” sung by a duo of crude, drunken women down on their luck) and some grab onto a gimmick and won’t let go (the chorus of jingling, bell-encrusted back-up performers in “Ring Them Bells,” which is not actually written to be taken literally). In “Money, Money,” Monica Cliff’s costumes of long black trench coats and black top hats transformed the singers into a nattily dressed street gang plagued with malfunctioning props. Both the title song from Cabaret and the uber-popular New York, New York were given musical twists that made them sound unfamiliar — the first with a close harmony arrangement for the ensemble, the second by inexplicably singing the lyrics in different languages. 

The highlights of each act were moments when solo numbers were blended together as duets or trios. The mash-ups of “I Don’t Remember You,” and “Sometimes a Day Goes By,” along with the melange of “We Can Make It,” “Maybe This Time,” and “Isn’t This Better,” were truly better than the sum of their parts, and allowed each actor to shine brighter when coupled with peers. 

With a seven-piece band onstage the performers were occasionally overpowered, particularly in the introspective songs of loss, softer vocal nuances were drowned out. But in general, music director Evan Lange did a good job keeping the show fast paced and tuneful. 

There’s no denying that performing arts organizations have had a tough couple of years and programming for their return has been challenging. But at a time when the audience wants so much to celebrate all that is exciting and daring about theater, this collection of musical numbers with nothing much to say is a disappointment.