“Don’t let anyone in on the fact that we can’t help it. We’re
like the chickens that cross the road. We don’t know why.”

These are the words of Pablo Picasso, sort of. In the Steve
Martin comedy Picasso at the Lapin Agile, the great minds of Pablo
Picasso, Albert Einstein and Charles Dabernow Schmendiman come
together in, of all places, a Paris bar.

The year is 1904, a year before Einstein published his Theory of
Relativity, and three years before Picasso unleashed “Les
Demoiselles D’Avignon” onto the world. It is unclear whether
Schmendiman ever sold his unique building material of kitten paws,
asbestos and radium. It is clear, however, that the Saint Louis
University Theatre has created quite a wonderful play.

Most of the play deals with the idea of genius and how to
capture its raw power. Picasso is an unknown artist still working
through his blue period, and Einstein is still a lowly patent
clerk. Still, both know they are destined to revolutionize the new
century, only they don’t know when they will be able to create and
show what has been going on in their heads for so long.

The setting for the play changes very little throughout the
show. For the most part, everything happens in the Lapin Agile pub,
a run-of-the-mill Parisian bar run by Freddy (Scott Hiller) and his
wife, Germaine (Katy Vogt). Always present is Gaston (Adam
Thenhaus), who goes to prove that since the dawn of alcohol, there
has always been a Norm. Because there are very few set changes, the
play itself moves at a pace past fast, without any intermission to
break up the action.

Integral to this fast pace is the snappy dialogue. In true
Martin form, long soliloquies are equally mixed with snappy quips
that break the seriousness that creeps in from time to time. Most
of these come from Gaston, who seems to have an opinion on
everything. Thenhaus shows off a pitch-perfect sense of comic
timing, throwing in his two cents, just as things get too
heady.

Then there is the character of Schmendiman, played by Kevin
Grooms. Outrageous and obnoxious, Grooms channels the energy of a
young Martin, replete with the ridiculous body language and
insolent tone. However, the luster fades fast as the zany shtick
becomes predictable.

James Malone plays the absent-minded professor well in his role
as Einstein. Most of the comedy comes from the character’s
detachment from the normal thinking process, which is used
sparingly but rightly so. Honestly, how many times can someone make
Einstein look like a dolt? Instead, Malone puts his passion into
the character’s frustration in trying to communicate his ideas to
the rest of the world.

Playing the ever-tortured artist Picasso is Jason Garrison. The
comedy of this role springs from Picasso’s unbounded arrogance,
which lands him into trouble from time to time. However, being an
artist tends to get him off as fast. Garrison seems to play this
role a little too well, as if he is really isn’t acting at all.
I’ll let the ladies answer that question.

Movies are nice, and video games can amuse, but neither can
match the enjoyment of going to the theater to see one’s peers put
on a play as entertaining as this. Starting at 8 p.m., this play
will not put a crimp in any planned events for later on, so don’t
try and use that as an excuse. It is worth the admission, I assure
you.