Politics everywhere! You wouldn't think you'd run into it at a high school musical, not in a comic operetta from high Victorian England, but here's the Pirate King's rousing song at the top of Gilbert and Sullivan's "The Pirates of Penzance":

	John Heller, Post-Gazette Frederic, played by Shane Valenzi, center left, and Ruth, played by Elise Scioscia, center right, perform in the opening scene of "The Pirates of Penzance" at Quaker Valley High School. Click photo for larger image. More pictures A gallery of pictures from 'The Pirates of Penzance' by staff photographer John Heller

"Oh, better far to live and die,
"Under the brave black flag I fly,
"Than play a sanctimonious part,
"With a pirate head and a pirate heart."

Bidding farewell to Frederic, his young apprentice, he sends him off to "the cheating world ... where pirates all are well-to-do." Business and government (kings then, presidents now) both come under his censure. "Contrasted with respectability," he tells Frederic, piracy is "comparatively honest."

But who can take 19th century satire seriously when it comes wrapped in such a topsy-turvy tale? It turns out Frederic was born on Feb. 29, so serving his apprenticeship until his 21st birthday means he has 63 years to go until he'll be free to marry Maj. Gen. Stanley's daughter, Mabel. Naturally she plans to wait, but not before letting out a delicious soprano wail, "It seeeems so looong."

Then there's Stanley himself, who escapes the pirates' wrath by claiming to be an orphan -- as who wouldn't be at his advanced age? But it turns out that all the pirates are just nobles gone wrong: "Peers will be peers, and youth will have its fling."

John Heller, Post-Gazette Before the show, freshman Alex Grant checks the placement of the sideburns he wears for the role of elderly Maj. Gen. Stanley. The makeup was applied with the assistance of Lauren Borkovic, right. Click photo for larger image.

Silly it may be, with the plot hinging on confusion between "pilot" and "pirate," "orphan" and "often." But artistically, "Pirates" is a very serious challenge indeed, with Gilbert's elaborate lyrics and Sullivan's rich, melodious score. Despite some difficulty on the first count, in last week's Quaker Valley production most of the students acquitted themselves well on the second, and the music is what matters most.

They also scored high in boisterous good humor, thanks to knowing direction by Quaker Valley alum Lou Valenzi, who used the 1980 Broadway adaptation, in which he had appeared. A G&S purist might object to the self-consciously modern detail and gags, but G&S did the same. Valenzi added further comic details from the subsequent national tour plus some of his own.

Valenzi and choreographer Amy Dunlap were at their best handling the chorus -- 21 of Stanley's daughters, 13 male pirates and, in Act 2, 13 bobbies drawn from both groups, which had the happy result of leaving just enough daughters on stage at the end for each pirate to get a wife, with two left over for the Pirate King.

The pirates flourished, stormed and stomped vigorously and the daughters were adept at jumping up and down, such that the choreography had a definite vertical air. The Keystone Cops police were astonishingly well drilled, complete with an accelerated pace to mimic old movies. At their peak of confusion, they became a limber blob with 13 heads and 52 arms and legs, led by a frenetically gymnastic Sergeant.

	John Heller, Post-Gazette The daughters bring abundant energy to play as they romp and swoon. Click photo for larger image.

The chorus also sang with good pitch and tone. But many lyrics must have been obscure to an audience unfamiliar with the show, so it's good that Valenzi and Dunlap provided lots of physical humor. The pirates bumbled and stomped humorously and the daughters romped with abundant energy -- there was nothing demurely Victorian about these Quaker Valley maidens.

"Pirates" requires just one set for each act, and Quaker Valley provided a tilted stage and a runway out around the orchestra for better visibility. Valenzi made great use of the latter. He sent Frederic on a slow circuit of it as the elderly, frustrated Ruth sang "Take a Maiden Tender," one of those moments when G&S undercut their own running gag with a melting lament. Later, he brought the whole female chorus out there to flutter and yearn at a discreet distance from Frederic, who preened at them from the stage.

In one modern touch, the orchestra threw in a few Elvis-like tones and Frederic did some hip thrusts, singing with an echo chamber effect as the maidens swooned with admirably detailed variety.

Matthew Boice's orchestra was regularly involved in the comedy: The Pirate King dueled with the conductor, sword vs. baton, and a daughter berated the percussionist for a scary fortissimo, which he justified by showing her the score.

	John Heller, Post-Gazette Elise Scioscia sings "When Frederic was a Little Lad" in the first act. She brought a pleasing comic breadth to the character of Ruth. Click photo for larger image.

The chief audience favorite was Philip Duprey's swaggering, maladroit Pirate King, the sort of Errol Flynn showoff who wants to kiss every girl and always mis-manages his sword. Though his diction was woolly, he had physical panache to spare. Of course, some of Gilbert's lyrics are famous mouthfuls, none more than in the Major General's patter song, very ably handled by Alex Grant, a precocious freshman. That success stood out in contrast to the later trio, "It Really Doesn't Matter," which was very hard to follow.

As Mabel, Dana Lundquist unfurled a soaring soprano capable of all the coloratura Sullivan threw her way, and she handled the comedy with prim precision. In this she was matched by Shane Valenzi's cutely comic Frederic, a performance with fine stage presence, although he's not her vocal equal.

Shawn Sheffield gave the Sergeant some amazing dance gyrations, and Elise Scioscia gave Ruth a pleasing comic breadth. All three chorus groups were active and fun to watch, the females benefiting especially from their frilly, rainbow-pasteled gowns.

Modernization went klunk only once, when the pirates yielded "in Queen Victoria's name" and the large medallion that appeared showed Queen Elizabeth II.

Or was that an ironic commentary on the current monarchy? Politics, again?