Theatre in Review: Application Pending (Westside Theatre)

	Christina Bianco. Photo: Joan Marcus

I don't know about that Christina Bianco. She can't be flesh and blood, can she? Mercury is more like it. If you've ever seen her on the Internet, shifting identities a couple of dozen times during the course of a four-minute song, you know what I mean. She goes from Britney Spears to Julie Andrews to Patti LuPone without turning a hair -- and if you don't think the sound of Andrews applying her practically perfect enunciation to "Total Eclipse of the Heart" isn't a showstopper, then I don't know what is. I never caught her various appearances in Forbidden Broadway, but I'm sure that she laid waste to the diva population of the theatre district. You only need to see her once to be aware that she is a fresh, funny personality with a singing voice that's worth hearing even when she isn't sending up stars' mannerisms.

Currently, she is applying her shapeshifting talents to the role of Christine, the beleaguered new director of pre-primary admissions at an elite Manhattan private school, channeling every character in the play with the same quicksilver ease that she spins out her impressions of Cher, Barbra, et al. Having been swiftly and mysteriously promoted from the position of kindergarten assistant -- she is told to say only that her predecessor has left to "to pursue other opportunities" -- Christine finds herself fending off a small army of parents who will stop at nothing in order to get their little darlings admitted to Edgely Preparatory Academy -- and, presumably, guaranteeing a lifetime of one-percenter success. There's the parent who insinuates that if sports success is wanted, his five-year-old "can tackle on a third-grade level." There's the gay couple touting their daughter, Sutton LuPone Garcia. And there's the worried mother whose child is allergic to, among other things, "eighteen varieties of trees, pigeon dander, and books with ink."

The faculty is hardly more prepossessing. When Christine is able to get the headmaster on the line, he bullies her and hands her the responsibility for an elaborate parents' night event -- to be held that evening. (The under-the-sea theme is scrapped at the last minute, because Jamie Dimon, one of the guests, is allergic to shellfish, thus sending Christine into frantic negotiations with the caterer.) Meanwhile, the coach informs her, "I need at least one LeBron for the basketball team." And the slutty first-grade teacher calls up to say, "Now that you're the new admissions bitch, can you admit, like, better kids?" Later, eyeing one of her little charges, she purrs to the appalled Christine, "Little Brandon is going to be a hot piece of ass, don't you think?"

Bianco inhabits all of these and more, swapping personas at screwball comedy speed without ever seeming to break a sweat. (The way she works the phones, slipping between Christine and various characters constitutes an Olympian feat.) She also has the knack of making the crudest joke seem perfectly innocent. And she is ingratiating enough to make us care about Christine's predicament as a single mother with a useless ex and a thankless job that she nevertheless needs.

If Application Pending focused on the blindly overprivileged and professional strivers who really are obsessed with getting their children into schools like Edgely Prep, it would make for a distinctive evening of hilarity -- and a bit of a public service, too. Instead, however, the authors, Greg Edwards and Andy Sandberg, settle for a gallery of broad cartoons drawn from some dog-eared joke book. We have to contend with the overbearing Jewish mother, whose actor tot, named Christian Olivier, is starring in Challah If You Hear Me. There's the honey-voiced Southern belle, who produces a galaxy of celebrities, including George Clooney and Pope Francis I, to endorse her offspring. And that gay couple can't say two words without breaking into something from Phantom of the Opera. A running gag about Christine's predecessor and her involvement in various illegal activities is beaten to death. Wrestling with this tired shtick, not even a comic as resourceful as Bianco can do much to liven things up. Even with her going at full tilt, there are some surprisingly long stretches when the laughs don't come.

Still, Sandberg's direction stays out of Bianco's way and maintains a fast pace -- no small virtues -- and he has also made sure she has the right setting for her talents. Colin McGurk's set design is a picture-perfect rendition of a posh school's admissions office with a Manhattan street view seen through the window. Jeff Croiter's nimble lighting provides a different look for each character. Bart Fasbender's sound design includes an array of voices -- all by Bianco -- on the telephone and a bunch of scene-setting effects, including traffic sounds, school bells, etc. Michael McDonald has dressed Bianco attractively.

And even when seen in a less-than-optimum vehicle, Bianco is a revelation, proving that she can use her remarkable talents for far more than quick-sketch celebrity impressions. She pulls off some nifty bits of physical comedy involving a Shrek doll that bursts into "The Monster Mash" at the most inconvenient times. And she nicely carries off, in throwaway fashion, a handful of scenes that indicate romance may be in the offing for Christine. Something tells me that Bianco's application for stardom won't be pending for too long. -- David Barbour