The Three Rivers Arts Festival has always included some theater, but this year's edition features it, with its ambitious 4th River Project.

	"American Humbug" puts on trial P.T. Barnum, shown here with Tom Thumb. Click photo for larger image.

The first weekend saw three theater openings. "To Suffer in Silence" played for the weekend only, but the other two, both lively new political satires, one local, one national, continue through this weekend ("Dr. Goddess Goes to Jail") and next ("American Humbug").

'AMERICAN HUMBUG'

Virtues and defects often come intertwined -- in individuals, of course, but also in nations.

That's one insight of "American Humbug," a political vaudeville by Lynn Conner. It centers on the great showman, P.T. Barnum, whose ingenuity and sunny salesmanship (American virtues) are matched by the credulous gullibility of those he exploits -- the media-manipulated middle-class that H.L. Mencken called Boobus Americanus.

Actually, "American Humbug" focuses pretty resolutely on the negative side of this pairing, as Barnum's hoaxes morph into those of the Bush era -- or rather, as the gullibility of Barnum's suckers ("one born every minute") morph into those of today.

A display case in the New American Century Museum that goes with "American Humbug." American Eagle above; note "Pandora's Box" and "Bush's last beer." Click photo for larger image.

But it's a paradoxical effect of satire that the object of attack is often engaging. Scoundrels, like the Devil, often get the best lines. Conner's Barnum, embodied by actor David Cabot with indomitable confidence, a glint in his eye and the mellifluous voice of a spellbinder, is a thoroughly engaging scoundrel. And to do him credit, even he seems nonplussed by the shenanigans of his heirs in bamboozlement, albeit envious of their technological advantages.

We enter the theater at 937 Liberty Ave. through designer Tavia LaFollette's version of Barnum's "American Museum," with display cases holding freaks of nature and such scams as Brutus' dagger, Eve's apple and Pandora's box. Mixed in are Bush's last beer and an Osama bin Laden poster -- this is the New American Century Museum, as well.

On stage, Barnum starts us off with a famous humbug -- Joice Heth, supposedly Washington's mammy -- and such entertainments as a beautiful baby contest (but no Arab babies allowed) and a blackface minstrel skit. As Barnum is pointing out that the best hoaxes are those spiced with a show of science and pandering to faith, contemporary references gradually intrude.

In this display case, Eve's apple from Eden is beside the dagger Brutus used to kill, perhaps showing Barnum was right that there's a suck born every minute. Click photo for larger image.

And then, to Barnum's dismay, his assistants rebel and introduce him to the future, primarily through a glitzy game show in which American icons (bald eagle, old glory, the almighty dollar) recite some of the great hoaxes of our own day (Enron, WMD, "stay the course").

Just 70 minutes long, "American Humbug" is scattershot guerrilla theater, with less interest in its scrambled plot than in the roman candle of today's humbug. Some of it is bald, heavy-handed speechifying, but it's always driven by sarcastic energy.

Bruce McConachie directs with brio. Cabot is ably supported by Ken Bolden, Wali Jamal and Melissa Rynn Porterfield, who play many roles, often with wit. LaFollette's production design is elaborate, her satiric puppets included.

As to why Americans are taken in by humbug, in Barnum's case it's clear: We love a good show. In the case of the half of today's population which still believes Iraq had something to do with 9/11, it's a harder case.

At 937 Liberty Ave. through June 17, Thurs.-Sat. 8 p.m., Sun. 2 p.m.; $5; 412-281-8723.

Kimberly Ellis is "Dr. Goddess." Click photo for larger image.

'DR. GODDESS GOES TO JAIL'

Let us now praise community theater -- not a theater of local entertainment using local talent, which that usually means, but one that arises from a community to express and celebrate its essential frustrations and hopes.

That's how I'd categorize "Dr. Goddess Goes to Jail," written, produced and directed by and starring Kimberly Ellis, a k a Dr. Goddess. Her protest comedy with music is an evocation of the lively satiric spirit of the Hill District, energized by last fall's protests against the proposed casino.

But it doesn't just draw on community energy, it also makes community its theme. Ellis' Hill -- storied, abused, indomitable, scruffy, hopeful, a bundle of dichotomies and much loved by many who call it home -- has a central place to play in Pittsburgh's sense of itself, because of its location and cultural legacy but also because, in a city of neighborhoods, this one tests the city's sense of fairness and history.

	LINKS 2006 Kimberly Ellis profile Dr. Goddess Web site Dr. Goddess radio ad

In the play, Dr. Goddess is an incarnation of the Hill -- imposing, angry, funny and smart. How close she may be to Ellis herself is secondary. What's important is that Ellis imbues the character, through both writing and performance, with passion but also a self-deprecating humor that keeps her from seeming preachy or too good to be true.

She surrounds Dr. Goddess with a cast of a dozen, most notably a trio of girls (Taylor Akins, Zyare Martin and Kendal Lee) who become the narrators and connecting spirits. The largely fictional, quasi-real story starts with them watching Dr. Goddess arrested for seemingly lying down in front of a bulldozer to stop some Hill development scheme. She, they and others go to jail and then to trial, which is interspersed with skits of every kind.

Writer/director/producer/star Kim Ellis with, left to right, Taylor Akins, Zyare Martin and Kendal Lee. Click photo for larger image.

These are mostly satiric and often musical. Some have the bite of George Wolfe's famous satire, "Colored Museum." I loved the "Evita" and "Dreamgirls" parodies. There's a clever skit where a black suburban mother confronts the fact that her kids talk like Valley Girls, an ad for whiteface cream and a telling parallel between crack and gambling (both equal "economic development"!). There's trenchant commentary on how Pittsburgh disguises reality by renaming neighborhoods, an attack on the cowardice of neutrality and a funny song about "If My Neighborhood Were a Sports Team."

The large, willing supporting cast is led by Rich Hutchins, Portia Witten, Rachel Harr and the three girls.

Some skits are too long, though, and some misfire. And although the crew works hard, the scene changes -- many unnecessary, bringing one chair off and another on, or bringing on a table which could have been there already -- are interminable. What the show needs is a director to speed that up, to trim some scenes and eliminate a few others.

Perhaps Ellis will be able to do that before her planned run at the Kelly-Strayhorn this summer. Right now, "Dr. Goddess Goes to Jail" is a work in progress, a smorgasbord in satiric defense of a neighborhood with a healthy sense of humor and lots of pride, well expressed by Ellis' song about the Hill, "Raise Your Hand!"

At Pittsburgh Playwrights Theatre, 542 Penn Ave.; Fri.-Sat. 8 p.m., Sun. 7 p.m.; $5; 412-281-8723.