Austin Playhouse’s production of Dirty Rotten Scoundrels, hits home. A shimmering French Riviera provides the backdrop for a tale that might seem like harmless musical comedy—until you start listening closely. Because this isn’t just a playful send-up of two rival swindlers. It’s a glittering scalpel carving through the soft flesh of American greed, gender politics, and social hypocrisy.
Adapted from the 1988 film starring Michael Caine and Steve Martin—and not to be confused with the 1964 Marlon Brando/David Niven vehicle Bedtime Story on which the film is loosely based—the stage version features music and lyrics by David Yazbek with a book by Jeffrey Lane. But under the direction of Lara Toner Haddock, the Austin Playhouse rendition doesn’t just aim to entertain. It aims to reflect—sometimes uncomfortably—on who we’ve become as a society.
Set in the idyllic (and fictional) Beaumont-sur-Mer, the show plays out against the luxurious Mediterranean coast of southern France. Having lived in Venice, equidistant between Nice and Antibes, I can attest: this world of manicured promenades, Chanel boutiques, and long lunches is real, even if time has faded the Riviera’s old starlight into Cannes’ bloated pageantry. The setting may feel escapist, but the show’s message is anything but.
The plot is simple: two grifters—one smooth and seasoned (French), the other brash and juvenile (American)—team up to fleece rich women until their egos get in the way. What ensues is a chess game of deception, disguise, and high-stakes one-upmanship, all played out through clever wordplay and toe-tapping jazz. But bubbling just beneath the surface is a sharp satire that skewers gender dynamics, American arrogance, and the transactional nature of love, sex, and power.
This isn’t the kind of musical where the humor makes you giggle and forget your troubles. It’s the kind where the audience laughs and then glances around uncomfortably, realizing they may have just cheered for something morally dubious. Take, for instance, a line where one of the con men sings: “I just want someone to love me for my money.” It’s funny—until it’s not. Or when another character bellows, “I wanna be like Trump,” and the audience is forced to decide whether it’s parody or prophecy.
In one moment that caught me completely off-guard, a throwaway jab refers to the “inimitably corruptible American”—a line so precise and damning it elicited from me not just laughter, but a kind of sad recognition. This musical doesn’t poke fun—it cuts. And it cuts where it hurts.
The satire isn’t reserved for the obvious political players either. The show makes space to lampoon local touchpoints: George W. Bush Jr.’s intellect gets a swipe, and Pflugerville—yes, Pflugerville—makes an appearance as a punchline. But even these jabs are folded neatly into the story’s larger critique: that the theater of wealth, status, and self-importance is everywhere. Even, perhaps especially, here in Texas.
The performances are buoyant, the cast top-notch. Scott Shipman brings gravitas and subtle menace to Lawrence Jameson, while Andrew Cannata’s Freddy is all chaotic charm and desperation. Sarah Fleming Walker’s Christine Colgate balances warmth with wit, and the supporting cast keeps the energy effervescent even when the message dips into darker waters.
Even the Oklahoma oil heiress character—played with delightful irony by Carolyn O’Brien—sings a line so bleak it loops back to comedy: “Not a tree ever grew, just a view of the zoo.” I couldn’t help but laugh and think: “Gee, can’t wait to go there.” (Just kidding. Mostly.)
What makes Dirty Rotten Scoundrels work so well in 2025 is that it doesn’t update its material to reflect the modern world—the world has simply regressed enough to meet it where it stands. In the age of reality TV presidents, wealth worship, and viral grift, this play about scammers feels less like fiction and more like reportage. It isn’t nostalgic. It’s a reminder that the game never really changed—just the costumes.
So, come for the Riviera fantasy and jazzy musical numbers. Stay for the sting.
CAST
- Scott Shipman as Lawrence Jameson
- Andrew Cannata as Freddy Benson
- Sarah Fleming Walker as Christine Colgate
- Huck Huckaby as Andre Thibault
- Jennifer Jennings as Muriel Eubanks
- Carolyn O’Brien as Jolene Oaks
- Ensemble: Ella Mia Carter, Bailey Ellis, Nick Hunter, Matt Kennedy, Lydia Margitza, Erin Ryan, and Ismael Soto III
CREATIVE TEAM
- Directed by Lara Toner Haddock
- Music Direction by Lyn Koenning
- Choreography by Laura Walberg
- Lighting Design by Mark Novick
- Costume Design by Buffy Manners
- Scenic Design by Mike Toner
- Properties Design by Ismael Soto III
- Sound Design by Robert S. Fisher
- Stage Manager: James Davery
Running until May 11, 2025
at Austin Playhouse, 405 West 22nd St., Austin, TX
www.austinplayhouse.com/scoundrels