Attack of the Soccer Moms

This satirical horror is somewhat of a surreal mish-mash of ideas. There are capers aplenty, a limited amount of brawling, the odd chase, and a lot of shouting. But despite the obvious excitement on stage, this energy fails to burst through the fourth wall.

Attack of the Soccer Moms tells the story of two super-competitive mothers, both pushing their daughters to win a soccer game. Well, who should come along but Satan, who tricks them into selling their souls for the sake of securing that much sought after victory. Sound familiar? Inevitably they end up paying a high price for their egotism as first their children spontaneously combust, then they are forced to murder their husbands and finally they end up banged up in prison, scrapping over rice pudding. If it’s a thought-provoking theatrical experience you’re after, you clearly won’t find it here.

The two female leads, Dawn and Dotti, are entertaining enough, hamming it up with unfaltering enthusiasm. The lighting and scene changes are snappy, which ought to maintain the pace. Not so. The flimsy, cliché-laden script stiffens the production, allowing offensively cheesy one-liners to roam free. Michael Whitney as Lucky (i.e. Satan) is burdened with the majority of these so that his character, which essentially runs the show, becomes its laughing stock.

This would have been a fun little spoof if it had toned down the tackiness.