The Fartiste

Not surprisingly, the most interesting part of "The Fartiste," a musical about a French cabaret performer who makes music with his farts, is the representation of its lead character's wind. The gaseous sound has its own actor, vocal sound effects artist Steven Scott, who stands behind a microphone in front of the stage and impersonates musical instruments, cannonballs, barnyard animals, bubbling water, and whatever else the script calls for, without breaking a sweat. Behind him, and down the long aisle of Sofia's Downstairs, Charlie Schulman and Michael Roberts' adaptation of the story of Joseph Pujol, the real-life 18th-century "fartiste," demands a wider physical and vocal vocabulary from its company, but with less payoff.

Pujol (Kevin Kraft) spends most of the play trapped in his own earnestness. After fighting for his role in the spotlight at the Moulin Rouge, he insists he wants to be an "artist," to have a "legacy," to feel "special," and so becomes a burden to his wife, bosses, and audiences. If only he'd lighten up, he might enjoy what he's earned for himself. The same might be said for "The Fartiste," which wants to be all things to all people: light comedy act, sexy boundary-pusher, sentimental melodrama, and feel-good tale of self-affirmation. By not committing to a coherent take on their quirky and provocative subject matter, Schulman and Roberts have instead buried it beneath narrative clichés and unimaginative musical numbers, creating a show that feels as desperate and unfocused as its hero.

Especially suffering from the show's flimsy posturing is the female ensemble (Rachel Kopf, Analisa Leaming, and Lindsay Roginski), talented singers and dancers whose underwritten roles vanish behind corsets and stuffed bosoms. Nick Wyman and Herndon Lackey, as the oily emcee and proprietor of the Moulin Rouge, fare better, with set pieces that, while unoriginal, nevertheless reward their comic timing and give them unfettered access to the audience's affection. Kraft's facial expressions during Pujol's "numbers" are three-act dramas in their own right, but otherwise he can't overcome his character's exasperating one-dimensionality. At the end of the evening's 90 minutes, it is Scott, with his humbly virtuosic performance, who walks away with his dignity intact.

Presented by the Schulberts, Robert Dragotta, Stephen Hanks, and Ratter Productions at Sofia's Downstairs, 221 W. 46th St., NYC. Opened Nov. 3 for an open run. Thu., 7:30 p.m.; Fri., 8 p.m.; Sat., 2 and 8 p.m.; Sun., 3 p.m. (212) 947-9300 or www.thefartiste.com. Casting by Stephanie Klapper.