I’m not a big musicals person, though as I have seen (and performed in) more of them over recent years I have warmed up to them somewhat. But generally, I prefer straight theatre. That out of the way, I went to see State College Community Theatre’s production of Curtains (book by Rupert Holmes, lyrics by Fred Ebb, and music by John Kander), directed by Kerry Clancy-Burns, in large part because many of the cast are friends I’ve acted with or otherwise been in productions with before. And I’m glad I did go because the show was really well performed and genuinely a lot of fun.

Curtains basically has a bifurcated plot—the main focus of the show is metatheatrical, focusing on a 1950s musical theatre company trying to put on a Western-style musical adaptation called Robbin’ Hood; the low plot is about Lieutenant Frank Cioffi trying to solve a series of on-set murders. I say the metatheatrical plot line is the high plot because much more time and attention is focused on the nature of show business, the commitment of “show people” to performing, the magic of musical theatre, and the difficulties of trying to get the play right. And this focus includes Cioffi himself, who generally seems a lot less interested in solving the murders than in motivating the cast and making recommendations for hos to fix the show. Cioffi himself is a community theatre enthusiast who is content with his life, but really longs to feel alive on the stage. In the background of the metatheatrical aspects, Cioffi investigates the death of Jessica Cranshaw, universally regarded as a terrible stage actress whose performances were dragging down the entire show, and who is poisoned with a pellet gun fired into her mouth near the opening of Curtains. Following this, Sidney Bernstein—the callous producer who has blackmailed virtually everyone involved into working on the show for minimal pay—is hanged when the curtains are closed and his body is pulled aloft on the mechanism. And finally, the stage manager who knows all the secrets, Johnny Harmon is shot to death before he can reveal what he knows to Cioffi. Eventually, Cioffi solves all of the murders and fixes the show, starring in the metatheatrical final version we see performed at the end of Curtains.

The first thing I need to acknowledge in this review before talking about the SCCT performances themselves is the song “What Kind of Man.” It’s a song that begins with harsh critiques of theatre critics, asking “what kind of man would take a job like that?” before turning to positive praise of critics when the characters find a solitary positive notice about Robbin’ Hood. Now, theatre critic isn’t my job—it’s a hobby—but among the actors in the State College area it’s well enough known that I critique shows that Jared Kehler (a friend with whom I performed in Agatha Christie’s And Then There Were None) specifically mentioned the song when I talked to him after the show.

While “What Kind of Man” was a fine song—performed by Dillan Brown as composer Aaron Fox, Erin Hanses as lyricist and subsequent female star Georgia Hendricks, Jackie Gianico as producer Carmen Bernstein, and Ted Schott as financier Oscar Shapiro—I did find two of the other songs properly beautiful: “Coffee Shop Nights” and “I Miss the Music.” The first was performed by Quinn Dougherty as Coiffi to his love interest Niki Harris, played by Bri Bottorf; the second sung by Aaron Fox about his regret that the professional and personal relationship with Hendricks has fallen apart. Both songs are hauntingly beautiful expressions of pain, either about Coiffi’s feeling of emptiness when not on the stage or about Fox’s dual losses of both his romantic and writing partner. And Dougherty and Brown sung the songs amazingly well.

The other song I want to specifically discuss is “It’s a Business,” sung by Carmen to her daughter Elain Bernstein (going by the stage name Bambi Bernet), played by Cassandra Poorman. Bambi resents her domineering mother who critiques her relentlessly and consistently tells her in public that she has no talent and won’t make it in showbusiness—which we find out at the end of Curtains is a façade so that people won’t think Bambi succeeded through nepotism. And in “It’s a Business,” Carmen tells her daughter than theatre isn’t art it’s a way to make money. The song itself was well performed, with Gianico doing an excellent job—as she did throughout the show, being one of the consistently funniest performers. But having a Jewish character sing about how much they love money and just want profit is…let’s say questionable. If it were a musical from the 70s or before, I might say, alright, problematic but an artifact of the times. But Curtains is from the early 2000s, by which time media about the antisemitic trope of Jewish greed should have been well-known enough as a problem that it could have been avoided.

Much of the best humor of the show was driven by Dougherty, Gianico, and Kehler, each of whom brought great energy to their parts and really hammed the roles up. The rest of the cast were strong as well, providing overall great performances.

The only real issue was a tech problem, because there were some periods in which mics either stopped working, cut in an out, or picked up static. This was especially a problem the first time that J. Lance Wilkinson came on as Boston Globe theatre critic Daryl Grady. Lance’s mic cut out more than it cut in the first time he was on stage, making it hard to follow what he was saying. This is just a general problem with wireless mics, which often have these kinds of issues—especially for community theatre companies that move between different performances spaces, rather than having a consistent, regular set up.