There sure is a Wild West feel about the slatted planks set (designed and build by Scott Maxim, who has also wrangled the props) that greets us in the BATS Stage space. Actually it’s a denim-clad and bowler-hatted woman we’ll come to know as Daisy who personally greets us and hands each of us an envelope numbered 1, 2 or 3 – not to be opened until we get the word. Thus intrigue and expectation is well set up before the show proper starts.

Daisy’s song, self-accompanied on ukelele, sets the scene. We’re in a God-fearing desert town called Spork (I think it’s Spore until I see it written much later). It seems there’s a “bean problem” which has something to do with what these townspeople drink, or want to drink – which ain’t fresh water because it later emerges the local supply might give you Giardia. And right there is the clarity problem caused by admirable but very heavy southern drawl accents and words rund’ge’erwikeyconsnansmissin’.*

Now that sure is a shame because writers Phoebe Caldeiro, Troy Etherington and Nina Hogg, who devised Cocked & Reloaded with Ashton Marla, have surely written more choice dialogue and good punchlines than meets our ears. But hey, we get the gist – and a good one it is too. As a vehicle for their performing skills, it’s well-plotted, underpinned with backstories that explain the flaws in each character and sprinkled with judicious socio-political commentary complete with witty anachronisms.

Phoebe Caldeiro’s orphanage-raised Daisy is winningly naïve yet knows how to stand up for her self when she has to. Ashton Marla’s Amanda (Mandy) Mayor wields swaggering power in the absence of Spork’s missing-in-action Sherrif, and does extra duty as bounty-hunting triplets.

As the formidable whip-cracking Madam Fiz (short for Efizabeth), Nina Hogg embodies the classic tropes of the dominatrix underpinned by a romantic desire for a dominant man. The enigmatic but very law-literate Moonshine Porridge is manifested manfully by Troy Etherington in more than one guise.

While their wacky physicality and fight routines, choreographed by Hogg, would be even more impressive if they were less measured, there is an amusing charm in the care they bring to them. This aligns with the lo-fi contributions of Stage Manager Dylan Hutton as he wrangles props and adds cameos as a Witchy wife and Father Jack for the obligatory wedding scene.

Originally directed for the Covid-cancelled season by Austin Harrison, Katie Hill has directed the re-staging, with Troy Etherington’s sound and Timothy Fraser’s lighting designs, operated by Kate Anderson, contributing to the dynamics, the flow only being impeded a couple of times by necessary offstage costume changes. Overall good comic timing and team-work generate 80 minutes of well-wrought fun. As for the numbered envelopes – who needs rotten tomatoes now we has beans?

*(run together with key consonants missing)

Copyright © in the review belongs to the reviewer