“I feel so dirty!” exclaimed the teenager next to me as Satan and Jerry Springer took their final bows. He wasn’t the only one: the older couple sitting to my right had left in disgust at intermission, dismayed at the show’s “utter lack of moral values.” (Just file theirs along with the other 50,000 complaints received when the play aired in 2005 on BBC Two.) Sure, in director Richard Ouzounian’s production, the F-bomb is dropped 297 times, while Jesus admits to being “a little bit gay” and the Ku Klux Klan tap dances with a Confederate flag. But even beyond surface-level controversy, Jerry Springer: The Opera succeeds as a challenging, rewarding piece.
“Bring on the losers!” begins the first act, which serves as a faithful recreation of the daytime trash-fest that is Jerry Springer. An onstage “studio audience” of Walmart-clad rednecks lob insulting chants at Jerry’s guests. The stars themselves, including feces fetishists, an aspiring stripper, and countless adulterers, are no tamer than the usual guests on the television series. The only difference in this musical is the stars’ overwhelming earnestness and naïveté, enhanced by the operatic delivery of the dialogue. As she searches for fame in a “Jerry Springer moment,” the soprano lilt of regressive prostitute Baby Jane (Jocelyn Howard) makes her intentions seem almost pure.
The only redemptive character is Jerry himself, with impressive deadpan delivery by Byron Rouse. Jerry is set apart as the only non-singer, speaking his own lines with amusing awkwardness. While interjecting the fights with witticisms, quipping that “a broadcaster with less experience might feel responsible,” Jerry is occasionally faced with his conscience in the form of a Valkyrie (Sarah Parkin). His Nordic foil takes the moral high ground, criticizing Jerry’s apparent lack of concern for the well-being of his guests. Jerry remains unconvinced until the second act, when the same argument is provided in Hell by Satan (JP Bevilacqua) himself.
The show morphs into a parody of Paradise Lost as the boorish guests of the first act take on the roles of Adam, Eve, Jesus, and God. The analogy makes sense: if Satan was sentenced to damnation for leading Adam and Eve astray, can Jerry be accused of the same sin? Shouldn’t he be held responsible for glamourizing self-destructive lifestyles, dishonesty, and violence? Both on television and in the musical, once his guests’ 15 minutes of fame are up at the end of each episode, it is evident that Jerry has not changed their lives for the better.
As noted by Ouzounian, “If countries get the leaders they deserve, they […] get the TV shows they deserve as well.” Inevitably, a critical commentary on the Jerry Springer demographic extends to American culture as a whole. The outside view of life in the United States is full of contradictions: we endlessly lambaste their crass taste in entertainment, but also their fervent religiosity. This omnipresent dichotomy collides in Springer’s portrayal of the deification of television personalities. Dropping Jerry Springer into one of the most familiar Judaeo-Christian narratives provides a powerful illustration of false idolism.
Those looking for the addictive, cathartic humour of the television show (regardless of the lofty morals) will be similarly impressed by Ouzounian’s production. Hopeless Hawaiian-shirted cheater Dwight (Greg Finney) particularly stands out as a comedic force, especially when reincarnated as a preening version of God. But best of all is the studio audience, who don’t miss a single opportunity for a cheap shot, no matter how self-reflective their insult. Their most telling scene is a trance-like chant that aims to sum up existence: “Eat, excrete, and watch TV.” Surely, we the (real) viewers can get past such passivity in our interpretations of Jerry Springer: The Opera. Providing big laughs, Hart House’s bold production will have you cheering for Jerry, for better or for worse.
Jerry Springer: The Opera runs at Hart House through January 31.
