MARS HILL - If stage set could steal the whole show it might be what designer Ed Zuckerman has done for SART's final gig of the season, "Radio Gals." Plan to get to Mars Hill's tiny Owen Theater early to savor the details of this wonderful, period parlor of an Arkansas matrons' home in the 1920s. Once the cast takes over the stage there is too much happening to appreciate the background.

This set is conventional and totally representative. Ornate settee, period chairs, fine old radio cabinetry, dark floral wallpaper and a high-hung, slow circling ceiling fan. The accurate doorframes and paneling are quite authentic.
But the delight of this totally rewarding experience is not limited to the visual and static. The material is clever in concept, brilliant in execution. The funky and odd cast is riveting, six women playing women-of-a-certain age, three men in drag and one man without any pretensions beyond being his own unfulfilled self.

Pat Snoyer, who teaches theater at UNC Asheville, gives us a worthy Hazel Hunt - retired public school music instructor who takes on running a new-fangled radio station from her front parlor. Her capacity as a torch singer has been a well- kept secret. Stunning!

Her colleagues from some silly sorority-like society are the eight Hazel Nuts, whose musical skills are really quite amazing. It might not have mattered whether the goofy crew could really produce tunes. But, the fact is, this is pretty fine musical presentation and the songs are clever as all get-out. Vocals are knock-out.

Consider the titles of some of these songs: "When It's Sweetpea Time in Georgia," "There are Fairies in my Mother's Flower Garden," "Buster, He's a Hot Dog, Now," Hazel's show- stopping "A Gal's Got to Do What a Gal's Got to Do," and "Queenie, Take me Home With You." The lyrics blast way off from these already far-out titles.

Aside from some sad saxophone, all the other instrumentalists - and a wide range they are: tuba, violin, piano, clarinet, bass, guitar, trumpet and percussion - are more than adequate. The vocals are really impressive. Close harmony and well-blended voices are from the barbershop singing school of music.

Guy Strobel competes well with the dominatingly fine setting, giving us an hysterically understated Mable Swindel, and a piano player of the finest order. His hamming and prissy, pursed lips are impossible to describe.

Celeste Burnum as Gladys Fritts, or Swami G., gets great guffaws from her delicious pratfalls and her zany desperation to capture the only male within sight. The spicy, but subtle, double-entendres come thick and fast.

Liz Aiello and Laura Michaels are the cute-as-a-button and hyperactive young members of the Hazel Nuts, while Bruce Lang and David Barbour are the other gender-bending women musicians. Pam Crowhurst and Rebecca Phippard round out the nut quotient and all contribute to the musical pleasures.

Mars Hill College senior Bradshaw Call is Mr. Abbot, sent by the feds to close down the illicit, unregulated radio transmission. Call's mousy demeanor is deceptive, as he is won over to the fun of being renegade broadcasters in a pioneer radio era. Director Pam Price Medlin deserves huge kudos for a splendid production. Jim Cavener reviews theater for the Citizen-Times.