Every movie and theatrical production pulls the best review quotes for their promotional posters, but sometimes there just aren’t any to be had.
Such is the case with the widely panned National Lampoon Presents: Full House the Musical! A Tanner Family Parody!
Starring celebrity blogger Perez Hilton as family patriarch Danny Tanner, the musical trainwreck is at the Randolph Theatre in advance of its Off-Broadway debut. And local critics have not been kind.
Here’s a look at the reviews available so far, which average out to one star.
It’s hard to imagine what producers thought they were adding to Toronto’s cultural scene with a rough, low-budget preview of Full House! The Musical! There are plenty of local comedians doing TV-themed improv shows, like Gilmore GirlProv and the Star Trek-themed Holodeck Follies, and doing it better. Please give them your money instead.
(Half a star out of four)
–Carly Maga, Toronto Star
…[The show] embraces its own badness as enthusiastically as the Tanner clan used to engage in cure-all hugs. It’s a fetid mess of ugly wigs, tasteless jokes, gross sight gags and grotesque performances. All that, plus fellating puppets. It’s almost as if Saget, who in his stand-up routines likes to be dirty for dirty’s sake, had written its perverted script.
(One and a half stars out of four)
–Martin Morrow, the Globe and Mail
The Full House musical doesn’t have the courage to focus on any kind of coherent satirical statement; it just tosses out campy, “outrageous” shenanigans without purpose or point. For every gag that works, a dozen push way too hard. The actors might as well be running around the stage yelling, “Wasn’t Full House a square show? Haw haw haw! Let’s make them all into drug addicts and perverts! That’ll show the suits what we think of their wholesome moral values, haw haw haw!”
The show is simultaneously breakneck and stagnant: it hops through existing plot sequences from all seasons of the show erratically, but still finds five-minute chunks of time to sing songs about incestuous relationships and having to “blow your dad.” It often feels like they go a mile for every punchline, then tie it up and drag it behind the car for another mile.
(One out of five stars)
–Rachel Bulatovich, Torontoist