And Henson-Conant's flamboyant stage look is just right for the role of Aubrey Giles, a performance coach to recently deceased hopefuls auditioning for the heavenly choir. She wears long braids with shiny ribbons mixed in, a white minidress, golden cowboy boots. She's a little bit pearly gates, a little bit Barbarella. Add in the rock-star-style grappling with her blue electric harp, and she is definitely memorable.
But even if you vibrate in sync with the show's "transformational" message of hope and self-actualization, "What the Hell" is kind of a mess.
Advance descriptions promise "American Idol"-style heavenly auditions, with Aubrey as the casting coach who will help the "remedial group" - that's the audience - learn "the ins and outs of the devilishly difficult competition." And in the first few minutes of the show there are promising satirical gags about a process that is "more diabolical than 'American Idol,' more satanic than 'Miss Universe.' " In this competition, Elvis is one of the judges.
Quickly, though, the show meanders into a series of musical set pieces - some serious, some schticky - that have little to do with that setup. With little transition or explanation, we get a long, poignant number about Aubrey's weird childhood, a who's-on-first bit about "negative space" and the "nothingness of everything else," and a jaunty little ditty that begins, "Why is a dimple good and a pimple bad?" There's a harp instrumental and several audience-participation numbers. The point of it all seems to be that "you have a voice that's yours alone" and you should, um, raise it. Well.
Occasionally there's a big creaking sound effect and a spotlight clicks on from above. Apparently God or Elvis or someone has opened a trapdoor in the floor of heaven and is checking on things in the waiting room. Aubrey looks up tremblingly and promises progress. Then it's back to the new age uplift.
