‘Pippin’ unpleasant, silly and sophomoric

I suppose it is theoretically possible for somebody to stage a palatable production of “Pippin.”

All I know is, I’ve never seen one. This unpleasantly silly production by the Coeur d’Alene Summer Theatre certainly did nothing to alter that track record.

Any production of this 1972 B-list musical has to dig itself out of two holes. First of all, the songs by Stephen Schwartz are totally unmemorable; these songs have not exactly gone down in musical history, not even “Prayer for a Duck.” Sitting through “Pippin” is like sitting through a dozen B-sides by Seals & Crofts.

Second, Roger O. Hirson’s story is full of sophomoric, early ‘70s hippy-dippiness. It’s about Pippin, the son of King Charlemagne, who goes on a quest to “find himself.” Even though Pippin lived in the 700s, his quest is a collection of straight-up 1970s stereotypes.

First, he tries to find himself in battle, but he discovers that it involves killing people. Then he tries to find himself in sex, but that strategy turns out to be as dumb as it sounds. Then he decides to overthrow the Establishment. But regicide is no fun, either. Finally, he settles on the simple joys of a quiet rural life with a good woman.

Whoa. Back to nature, dude.

A director might be able to counteract all of this with plenty of magic and razzle-dazzle, and director Roger Welch tries mightily here. I did admire the pure stagecraft and sense of fun – not to mention the energetic, Fosse-like choreography by Michael Wasileski.

However, a couple of Welch’s choices backfired. For one thing, this looks like “Pippin” done by the cast of “Cabaret.” The dancers spend most of the show dressed in hot pants and black hosiery – and I’m talking about the guys. The entire look of the show is dark, spiky, punkish decadence. That works fine for “Cabaret,” which is about the decadence of Germany between the wars, but it never quite jells for symbolizing the Holy Roman Empire.

Welch also tries hard to make “Pippin” modern. Charlemagne, played with easy aplomb by Jack Bannon, spends a lot of time talking on a cell phone. In one particularly silly “orgy” scene, the chorus sits on the side of the stage and taps away on laptops.

Yet if “Pippin” has any appeal at all, some of it ought to come from the medieval color and pageantry. This production has none.

The decision to split the Leading Player role (the original Ben Vereen role) among three actors works to an extent. All three actors – Max Kumangai-McGee, Brad Willcuts and Ross Cornell – are charismatic and talented. However, we lose the advantage of having one single, identifiable tour guide to help us through this maze.

The script works to have a power-to-the-people informality, as in when it pretends to choose a spectator to play Pippin. Steven Booth is dragged onstage, but the illusion that he is just some schmo from the audience is instantly shattered when Booth opens his mouth and that outstanding singing voice rings out. Booth emerges from this show as a likable and versatile performer, which is quite an accomplishment.

Actually, I do not mean to imply that this show does not have some effective and entertaining numbers. The zesty “No Time at All” featured Ellen Travolta in fine form as Pippin’s grandmother, Berthe.

The excellent Megan Bayha, as the rural widow Catherine, was responsible for a terrific number called “Kind of Woman,” and Booth delivered on a several numbers, most notably the catchy “Extraordinary.”

Yet, this material may be too vapid to overcome. My wife saw the original production on Broadway and was suitably dazzled by Ben Vereen’s legendary performance and Bob Fosse’s staging. But even then, she said, the story was just plain silly.