In this clever but unsatisfying update of the biblical account of Sodom’s demise, Randy Jones (the former Village Person, in a non-singing role) plays God as a beleaguered office manager, Brian Munn’s Abraham, his sycophantic subordinate—or, as he dubs himself in one interminable tune, “God’s Li’l Bitch.” The white-tracksuit-clad God doesn’t want his Sodomites being such sodomites—even though they’re cast quite clearly in his own image—and he will smite the land unless Abraham comes up with one good man there.
What follows are songs about sins: The writing team of Kevin Laub and Adam Cohen follows a formula of defining each of the Ten Commandments Greek chorus–style, then demonstrating with a peppy tune how it’s violated. Lyricist Laub has his moments, celebrating a sexual paradise where penicillin is doled out “like government cheese,” but Cohen’s score, trying too hard to satisfy the Broadway musical idiom, is uninspired. Sodom fails the karaoke test: You will never hear these tunes at Pieces or the Duplex.
Justin Schultz, in the sole sexually charged performance, lends Sodom its only fire. As fun-loving Larry, a friend of prudish Lot (Jonathan Kaplan), he’s the Jack to Lot’s Will Truman; as a focal Sodomite, he’s seductive enough to emcee Cabaret. Kaplan, a former Tony nominee, falls flat as Lot, lingering on notes of dazed befuddlement. A pleasant surprise in an underwritten role is Jake Manabat as visiting Gomorrahan Chad, a snapping queen in argyle.
A lack of chemistry undermines the well-voiced Sodom, its sinning forced and un-fun. As the spared Lot and his daughters leave to fuck, er, repopulate the world, one wishes that any of the show’s flirtations had felt erotic, even the incestuous ones.