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photo byCTC

Bertolt Brecht’s “ThreePenny Opera,” which Calvin Theatre Company puts on for the sixth of seven times tonight, is one classic Disney isn’t likely to get its hands on.

It’s quite simple: the musical has no good guy. And melodrama and glimmering soundtracks just don’t work without a protagonist (think Little Mermaid, Aladdin, Pocohontas).

So “ThreePenny Opera” is safe for now. It’s almost too bad, though, because the musical warrants the kind of attention Disney’s international regime could give it. “ThreePenny” slices through the residue of complacency clogging our culture and shoves a disturbing mirror in our face. And the message comes through loud and clear in CTC’s rendition.

The musical is one steaming bog of scummy humanity. In the midst of dreary London scenes dotted by beggars and whores are despicable main characters Macheath (Todd E. Herring), the similarity of whose name to Shakespeare’s Macbeth is significant; Mr. Peachum (Nicholas D. Rogers), a religious hypocrite who exploits beggars; Jenny (Kimberly A. Pederson), a prostitute who betrays a former lover no less than twice; and an assortment of people with the moral compass of career politicians.

Though its summation might be simple -- this is humanity at its worst -- the plot is more complicated. It centers around the recklessly arrogant Macheath, weaving thick webs of cheap love and disastrous friendships only to get caught in them himself. Herring thunders his arrogant soliloquies and songs throughout the nearly three-hour performance.

Macheath keeps stumbling over three lovers: Polly, the sycophant whose devotion he tramples; Jenny, a former lover who toys with him; and Lucy (Kristi M. Johnson); yet another burned lover who makes the mistake of trusting Macheath too many times.

Macheath’s enemy, Peachum, bitter about the secret marriage of Macheath and Peachum’s daughter Polly (Lise Evans), is no better. He and his wife (Ellie White-Stevens) sneer through the play’s three acts, whether at their troop of servant beggars, or their renegade daughter, or spineless police commissioner Tiger Brown (Jared VanAlstyne) they blackmail to send Macheath to the gallows. The Peachums’ blood runs ice cold throughout.

Initially the audience member sympathizes with CTC’s historical reluctance to perform musicals. The last few scenes of the first half plod; living up to the “opera” portion of its title, the play drags its characters through gratuitous spontaneous numbers that leave little to be remembered. And since the music (by Kurt Weill, directed here by Charsie Randolph Sawyer) is meant to match the dreary, dissonant life of the characters, it is not always likable, though the orchestra is solid.

photo byCTC

Mechanically the play has few flaws. The sets are elaborate, however bleak, shifting easily from city street to stable to shop. The lighting’s timing is nearly airtight. The consistent quality of cast and crew speaks to CTC’s involvement of the entire company on and offstage, giving us a show whose top-to-bottom quality rivals professional companies.

What rises to the top are some particular standout performances. Herring captures every aspect of the narcissistic Macheath and provides a deep, rich singing voice to convey the character’s false sense of power. Rogers and White-Stevens have us ready to strangle them for their downright grating display of chilling hypocrisy and manipulation. Pederson captures confidence and mind games in Jenny striking for a character who wallows in human sexual filth.

VanAlstyne portrays the police commissioner with a Scottish accent that sounds native. Macheath’s bumbling gang (Nicholas Dekker, Lucas Van Engen, Micah Green, and Terence Schoone-Jongen) provides the play’s comic relief with fine-tuned slapstick. And Adam Mellema skillfully handles both the sophisticated movements and tone of the streetsinger (though his transition to other characters is distracting).

After Macheath’s march to the gallows and a jolting surprise ending, the audience wonders if it really got the happy ending it was promised. It’s hard to tell just what we were supposed to be happy about. There was never anything or anyone to cheer for, nor any upbeat tunes to hum on the way out -- among the lyrics of the somber songs are “The World is Mean” and “Do something bad, and you’ll survive.” All that we’ve seen is a disgusting display of lies, hypocrisy, sex, exploitation, and betrayal.

The challenge is thus for the audience member to assume the role of the elusive protagonist. Director Stephanie Sandberg writes, “If you are looking for a redeemable character, do not stop at the end of the stage. You are the voice of morality. You are the redeeming character. And in Brecht, yours is the starring role.”

Again, not something Disney would touch. Not without a chance to spoon-feed the spectacular and set silly standards of glorious heroism. Not without a measuring stick for life that goes by drama instead of decency.

But the lesson of “ThreePenny” is no less relevant today, especially on the heels of the impeachment trial in which not just the reckless President Clinton (to whom Macheath’s runaway libido inevitably alludes), but everyone appeared a tragic character. There, too, it was up to the audience to take the high road. “ThreePenny” tells us to do so not with a sparkling soundtrack, but with a simple plea to stop short of the arrogance of Macheath, the hypocrisy of Peacham, the treachery of Jenny, and the weakness of Brown. Lavish modern America may seem far away from the play’s filthy old England bog, but the personal challenge remains to keep from sinking into such emptiness.