"YEAST NATION"

@ ATC
Reviewed by Ike Holter



The first fifteen minutes of Yeast Nation play like the poor man’s Urinetown.
These pages would be grounds for plagiarism if they weren’t penned by Urinetown's very own authors, Marc Hollmann and Greg Koitis.
Shock!
By sticking to the same format that struck Broadway gold in 2002, Kotis and Hollmann take very few risks. Boy meets Girl. Girl inspires Boy. Boy leaves girl. Girl hitches up with Dude. Boy comes back. Musical comedy dramarama.
Maybe it's unfair to compare Yeast Nation's paper thin plot to Urinetown's equally skinny storyline. But when the writers cut and paste so much structure from their previous blockbuster, it's very difficult not to draw lines between Urinetown's plucky revolutionaries to Yeast Nation's green-trash-bag wearing ruffians. Yes, trash bags.
Green ones.
These prancing particles not only sing and dance but are forced to high kick in costumes that seem to be borrowed from Mugatu’s Derelict clothing line.
Director PJ Papeareli adds a high profile polish to the pedestrian first act, and it’s nearly enough to add meaning to a show that sorely needs it.
It’s only in Act 2 that the show evolves into an entity of it’s own. The numbers become sexier, the jokes play bigger.
It’s not enough to erase the cut-and-paste sensation that stood in as a first act, but any musical that ends with mass murder, a fight scene and a 70’s influenced disco number is a show that should be seen.