Your Little Ponies | Performing Arts Review | Chicago Reader

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Your Little Ponies


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Your Little Ponies, at WNEP Theater. There's no denying that Brad Norman and Joey Tilton, aka the rock band Your Little Ponies, can play guitar and carry a tune. Their jokey songs are fairly well constructed, the lyrics somewhat clever. Unfortunately neither duo nor shtick is very funny. Maybe the problem is that send-ups of rock 'n' roll pretension have grown both tired and redundant. Maybe it's the disconnect between the show's cock-rock target and the Bare Naked Ladies idiom used to shoot it down. Maybe it's the high-larious topics of the tunes: Voice-mail messages. The handicapped. The letter R.

A loopy back story about the band's origins and ethos might have been mined for more laughs, but after an abortive introductory bit, the show is strictly a novelty-song affair. Theoretically this simple parody could still allow for character development, via contrasting performance styles or off-the-cuff patter, but not much happens in this vein either. Altogether, Your Little Ponies is about as trying as the house-party guitar slinger who just won't...stop...playing.

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