The Musical Shucked is a Cornucopia of Fun

By Kyle A. Thomas

It feels too on the nose to describe Shucked (book by Robert Horn, music by Brandy Clark and Shane McAnally, direction by Jack O’Brien) as “corny,” but I think that’s exactly what the creators want the audience to experience with this musical: a cornucopia of corny comedy that leaves audiences feeling like they’ve just been on a Saturday afternoon romp through a corn maze.

And, honestly, the show isn’t any more complicated than that. Told by two unnamed storytellers (Tyler Joseph Ellis and Maya Lagerstam), the story at the heart of the musical opens on the aptly named Maizy (Danielle Wade) as she is about to marry Beau (Jake Odmark). But, *gasp,* there is a sudden and unexplainable problem that has struck the corn in their beloved—and humorously set—Cob County. Distraught and searching for a solution, Maizy calls off the wedding and travels to the big city: Tampa. There she meets Gordy (Quinn Vanantwerp), a conman podiatrist who specializes in corns and owing money to the mob. Promising solutions for the residents of Cob County, Gordy schemes to sweep Maizy off her feet while having her prized bracelet—a gift from her Grandpa (Erick Pinnick) made of fancy stones—appraised for its value. Gordy sees a golden opportunity to locate the source of those precious stones while also promising to solve Cob County’s golden affliction. But upon their return, the community rallies around the heartbroken Beau, with his brother Peanut (Mike Nappi) and Maizy’s whiskey-making cousin Lulu (Miki Abraham) voicing suspicions about Gordy’s intentions. But unlike silk on the ear of the Cob, this tale doesn’t leave any thread hanging loose. Gordy finds an unexpected treasure of a different kind, Maizy and Beau rekindle their love for one another, and the good people of Cob County find that their beloved corn has unexpectedly recovered.

Shucked, like every good corn maze, is a couple hours of corny fun. There’s only a thin veneer of real trouble at the heart of the story, but that doesn’t detract from making us want to cheer on the characters as they navigate their way through the twists and turns of their predicament. We are treated to a barrage of corny jokes that are delivered one right after another, and all with a wink to the audience that the evening will be endlessly peppered with puns, maizy metaphors, and agricultural turns of phrase. The rapid-fire pacing and up-tempo musical numbers make for a show that isn’t weighed down by long moments of thoughtful introspection, although the song “Friends,” sung by Maizy and Lulu, is a beautiful point of familial reconciliation that sets in motion the plot’s denouement. Altogether, we are treated to an ensemble show that almost feels frenetic but keeps things on the rails with its creative scenic changes, exciting choreography (by Sarah O’Gleby), and a supremely talented cast capable of delivering the next corny joke with breathless aplomb.

With a production glued as tightly to its central metaphor as Shucked, there are bound to be moments when the comedy lands like a chewed-up corn cob tossed aside. Beau’s brother, Peanut, delivers a seemingly never-ending series of “shower thoughts,” ridiculous musings on mundane topics that attempt to lift the humor beyond its corny center but do more to induce groans than giggles as they often punctuate serious dialogue. And, at times, the folksy accents, myriad patches spattered across a wall of denim costumes, and over-the-top behavior all contribute to a show that depends a little too much on mining every last kernel out of the corny caricatures in the story. However, the talents of the cast pull us back in, even when we’re rolling our eyes at another corny joke. The infectious excitement and witty delivery of the two storytellers, Tyler Joseph Ellis and Maya Lagerstam, provides a chorus-like framing that gives us permission to laugh at the show’s absurd but heroic commitment to the bit. The trio of Miki Abraham’s Lulu, Danielle Wade’s Maizy, and Quinn Vanantwerp’s Gordy have a palpable chemistry that makes the tension between them—and eventual rapprochement—more immediate than the enveloping corn crisis of Cob County. Abraham practically steals the show with their unflappable presence, which is expertly matched by Vanantwerp’s devious, but endearing, charm. And both actors can sing with a bellowing weightlessness that resonates beautifully in the ears—the ones on your head (sorry).

Shucked is a goofy good time for anyone looking to romp their way through the musical version of a corn maze. Families with children younger than teenagers may want to avoid this one due to some adult humor and references. Shucked plays through January 19th at the CIBC Theatre (18 W. Monroe St.) and tickets are available at www.broadwayinchicago.com/shows/shucked.