Any development not checked at the door will be arrested. Thrillpeddlers is back with a new musical revue with the almost ritualistic symbiosis of call-and-response naughtiness with the audience. Jewels of Paris is not the first Thrillpeddlers show offering revealing costumes, gratuitous sex gags, and polysexual antics, but much of the vitality of the show depends on an audience coming back with its share of hoots and hollers of those seeing boundaries being broken as if for the first time.
Paris of the early 20th century is the milieu of Jewels, made of songs and sketches, and stylistically it is all over the place. Scrumbly Koldewyn's original songs (additional lyrics by Rob Keefe and Martin Worman) can still channel his Cockettes roots, but usually head off in many other directions. Much of it is mild pastiche of vintage popular song styles with transgression found in the often-unsubtle lyrics. In "Let Them Eat Cock," a Marie Antoinette burlesque, the queen (Lisa McHenry) sings, "They'll think they're in a dream when their mouths are full of cream." And then there is "Come Eat Me, Eat Me, Eat Me," a semi-graphically performed paean to anilingus lustily performed by Andrew Darling and Steven Satyricon.
But Koldewyn and company can also play it straight, as in "Oh, What a World," nicely performed by Kim Larsen, which has a Cole Porter/Noel Coward ruefulness. "Singer in a Cafe" (lyrics by Worman) is a sincere chanteuse's lament that Noah Haydon, in drag, delivers with conviction. There are also moments of social commentary, as when Dee Nathaniel, as a scantily clad Josephine Baker persona, sings "But Underneath." At the big finish, it's pretty much a humor-free torture dungeon for "L'hotel Dungereux," with its notes of Marat/Sade darkness.
The sketches, some with songs and others without, are decidedly uneven. Alex Kinney, Andy Wenger, Keefe, and Koldewyn are the authors, though the credits are not attached to individual pieces. But even when they don't exactly fly, there can be morsels of worthy weirdness within them. "Cupid's First Flight" is one example, with a familiar character involved in some very peculiar circumstances, and "Bearded Assets" makes an amusing gender stew, with Bruna Palmeiro as a circus' bearded lady who falls for a mute androgynous ticket-taker (more good work from Haydon, who also provides the exuberant choreography).
As typical at Thrillpeddlers, there is a large cast that director Russell Blackwood always seems able to marshal through a complicated production. In addition to cast members mentioned above, Birdie-Bob Watt is endearingly forlorn as a Pierrot clown who serves as master of ceremonies. And another typically welcome part of a Thrillpeddlers show are the extravagantly skewed costumes, in this case by Tina Sogliuzzo and cast member Watt.
This isn't the Thrillpeddlers of wild Cockettes revivals or blood-drenched Grand Guignol. It's a tamer show, if you can call a show with a telephone that spews cum on Gertrude Stein as tame. At this point, an advisory about abundant nudity is probably gilding the lily.
Jewels of Paris will run through May 2 at the Hypnodrome. Tickets are $30-$35. Call (415) 377-4202.