Jennifer Ewing Pierce attempts mixing comic-book action with post-feminist satire in her sketchy play "Confessions of a Wonderbabe." Derived from the popular Wonder Woman of DC Comics and TV fame, "Confessions" follows Wonderbabe (a Wonder Woman knockoff) through an identity crisis. Though the world loves her super-rescuing ways, she feels like a sex object because she performs her feats of derring-do in a star-spangled near-bikini. Upon the advice of her therapist, the princess of power sheds her skimpy costume and gives fighting crime in dull slacks and sensible shoes a try. Naturally, she falls flat on her gorgeous face. But thanks to the spirit of her Amazon empress mother, she realizes her costume is part of her superpower.
Pierce, who also directed, tries for camp, but the script is only mildly amusing. The tone is basically that of the "Batman" TV series of the 1960s -- deadpan serious on the surface, but the creators winking at the audience, letting them know it's all a joke. The trouble is the jokes (which range from lame Martha Stewart putdowns to mad-scientist shtick left over from the "Austin Powers" movies) aren't remotely funny. Humor of this kind only works if the creators don't try too hard, and Pierce and her cast try way too hard to make us laugh. As a result, we didn't.
Allison McAtee is physically perfect for Wonderbabe. She's as tall as an oak and beautiful as a goddess. However, there is no distinction to her characterization of the superheroine. We don't believe that this bland but stunning crime fighter would suffer from a moment's self-doubt or introspection. Anthony J. Caruso camps it up outrageously as three of Wonderbabe's arch villains. But he goes too far and only scores when performing Michele Marie's quirky choreography. Patrick Jordan has a few moments of comic conviction in a variety of roles, but it's too little, too late.
The design was unsuper for an unsuper show.