Review: Gaslight pumps up the silly

You almost always know what you’re gonna get at the Gaslight Theatre.

Still, you are almost always surprised.

Maybe it’s the bastardization of rock ‘n’ roll songs. Maybe it’s the actors’ gifts for going off script if it means making a fellow cast member — and us — laugh.

Or maybe it’s the corn-filled mind of Peter Van Slyke, who writes and directs most plays, including the current one, “The Rise of the Sheik.”

Whatever the reason, the familiarity mixed with the surprise makes for an eye-rolling, boo-and-cheer-filled, laughter-packed time at the ol’ theater.

It’s just moments into the play when the cast sings “Sheik Yerbouti,” a shameless ripoff of KC & The Sunshine Band’s “Shake Your Booty.” We like the Gaslight version better, though it makes as little sense. A bit later, the song “Afternoon Delight” becomes “Arabian Delight.” It seems Van Slyke can bend any song from anywhere to his will. And he does.

Other tunes pepper the play, about a young Kalif Ali Ben Hassan (honest, that’s his name), who must fight some evil forces in order to claim the lands and power that should have been passed on to him after his father died. Kalif is played by an enthusiastic Jake Chapman, clean cut and innocent, but willing to fight for what is his. And fall in love. And put evil in its place.

He gets some help from a richly ridiculous Mike Yarema as his sidekick, Kamir. He’s not really much help, but oh does he have fun.

And that head bad guy is just too delicious. David Orley, who has defined bad guys at The Gaslight for years, is the no-good grand Wazir. His sidekick is the sublimely understated Jacob Brown as The Soothsayer, though he’s pretty lousy at forecasting the future.

There’s a love interest — Erin Thompson as sweet, demure, almost-helpless Jasmine, a scheming beauty (Heather Stricker), and Todd Thompson as Sheik Yerbouti. We aren’t sure how he fits in, but we are glad he does.

Look, the story ain’t the thing here. It’s the good singing, good fun, so-bad-they-are-good jokes (“Haven’t I seen your face somewhere before?” “No, it’s always been right here”) and the good music, directed by Linda Ackermann.

And it’s the olio, the cabaret-ish show after the show. These days, it’s Gaslight’s tribute to “Dirty Dancing.” Some great singing and even greater spoofing.

The success of the Gaslight shows owes much to its scene designer Tom Benson. In this production, he transports us to Arabia in the 17th century, where the good guys ride white horses, the bad guys black ones, and the simple minded a jackass; where carpets fly, and where pyramids rise on the small stage.

But all his fine work would be for naught if it weren’t for the supreme silliness of the playwright/director and actors. They are determined the audience has a grand time. And it does.