The Off-Broadway Theatre Review: Gwyneth Goes Skiing at the Soho Playhouse NYC
By Ross
“Prepare to be gooped,” we are told, wisely, as we slide onto the slick with absurdity slopes at the SoHo Playhouse, where Gwyneth Goes Skiing returns for another limited run, gleefully lampooning celebrity culture, courtroom melodrama, and, of course, the overly annoying Gwyneth Paltrow herself. Created, directed, and performed by Linus Karp and Joseph Martin, the duo behind Diana: The Untold and Untrue Story fame, this Off-Broadway import is as irreverent and delightfully unhinged as one would hope. It’s a meta-musical mash-up of true crime, fan fiction, and improv-style chaos that gleefully invites the audience to join in the spectacle. And join we do, whether as the jury who vote on the trial’s outcome via QR code, or as supporting players reading lines from a teleprompter: a boyfriend, a shop clerk, even Gwyneth’s boyfriend, soon-to-be husband. It’s an interactive circus of camp that never takes itself too seriously, and for much of the night, that’s its greatest strength.
The first act glides by with a joyful sense of invention and wit. The much-memed “snowball incident” becomes a slapstick highlight, and the visual gag of an actual apple hanging in for Paltrow’s daughter, Apple, is perfectly ridiculous. The deadpan stagehand who handles the fruit and the deer steals more laughs with a single expression than some shows manage in a full act, responding to Linus Karp’s Gwyneth, who perfectly embodies the Oscar-winning movie star as both affectionate and merciless. It’s a poised parody of self-importance, privilege, and the eternal quest for “conscious” Gwen-anything. There’s also a sweetly deranged supporting lineup of singing woodland creatures, including Wes Maddocks’ squirrel, Sam Carlyle’s rabbit, and Leland’s mystical “Deer of Deer Valley,” giving the production a wildly surreal Disney-on-acid charm.
But while the first half zips downhill with a silly, clumsy confidence, the second act starts to lose its balance on the powder puff slope. Once the trial begins, the repetition starts to set in. Every third joke seems to involve “goop,” often substituted for words like “bible,” “truth,” or “justice.” It’s funny at first (“swear on goop to tell the whole goop and nothing but the goop”), but by the time we’ve hit the tenth iteration, the joke has lost much of its snowball bounce. Even with sharp interjections reminding us that some of the wildest courtroom dialogue was actually true, the pacing starts to drag and capsize in the snow. What began as a fizzy satire starts to feel like it’s circling the same snowy mountain rather than scaling new comedic mountaintop heights.
Still, there’s no denying the cleverness of the conceit. From the audience’s genuine role in determining the verdict, to the glistening pre-recorded musical interludes featuring the wonderful Darren Criss, Cat Cohen, and a funny cameo by Trixie Mattel, Gwyneth Goes Skiing doesn’t crash land. It has crafted an inventive and infectiously participatory experience brimming with talent and wit. The parody could use a bit more tightening and editing, adding in some sharper variations to sustain its high-energy absurdity over two acts. Because like a ski run that’s gone on a little too long, you start to wish and search for a chalet and a warm whiskey drink to lift us back up to the fun of the beginning.
Gwyneth Goes Skiing is an entertaining, well-aimed jab at celebrity vanity and the absurdity of the influencer era, equal parts cabaret, courtroom, and chaos. It’s silly, smart, and occasionally exhausting, but mostly in a good way. You may not leave wanting to buy any Goop products, but you’ll probably go home smiling, grateful that you didn’t have to sign a non-disclosure agreement on your way out.
