“Pick a rumba from one-to-ten,” Groucho used to quip, and that’s about the only pun that isn’t used in Michael Alasa’s cacophonous, carnal, and kooky musical, Born to Rumba!. The plot, about a disciple of Europe’s famed Colette (Angela DeCicco) who joins a Cuban nightclub-cum-brothel run by lothario Alasa, is too scrambled to follow, possibly by design. Still, a little less chaos and a little more structure might make Rumba! feel more like a musical and less like a bawdy blitzkrieg.
Most of the musical numbers are instantly forgettable, and even the better raunchy tunes (“I Love a Banana”) are more obvious than shocking. On the plus side, Rumba! ends somberly, with an indictment of Havana’s sexual/political repression under communist rule.
It’s almost unfair to say I enjoyed the pre-show atmosphere -- spangled curtain, sleazy barker (Al Roffe), run-and-Cokes served by tacky “Rivoli” girls in floor-stomping heels -- more than the actual performance, but for audiences seeking a taste of Tony n’ Tina-style theater at one-third the price, Alasa & Co. have got your rumba.
