The Hasty Pudding Theatricals Show is not for everyone. Indeed, before attending the latest installment of the 151-year-old tradition last Friday, I was quite certain HPT (as it's known) was not for me.

Let me explain. At a base level, the Pudding Show is base: the humor is low, the puns are relentless and the men are never as pretty in tights and brassieres as women would be in their place. Still, year-in and year-out, the house is packed, the show travels to Bermuda and the budget reaches astronomical heights (this year, roughly $300,000).

"I Get No Kick From Campaign", the show now playing at the Hasty Pudding Theater, is no exception to the HPT formula: It's raunchy, at times unnecessarily and excessively so, the puns are merciless (and sometimes God-awful), and the men do not look as pretty in tights and brassieres as women would in their place.

Still, "Campaign", the creation of two Dunster House roommates Benjamin R. Kaplan '99 and Gregory G. Lau '99, is impressive. The two seniors create a varied cast of stereotyped characters, from the Italian-American barber/womanizer, Donatello Mywife (Michael Roiff), to the not-so-innocent Washington intern, Stella Virgin (Robert Schlesinger); and the script and lyrics they cowrote are often very clever. On the whole, the show never loses a beat.

The first number of Act II, "Prayin' Alive," led by Hal Elujah (Eric Ambald), the evangelic disco-loving preacher, decked out in a stained-glass-window-printed suit and sequined cross and papal collar, is one of the show's most electric moments. It demonstrates the skill not only of Kaplan and Lau but also of the terrific and fiery Ambald, supported by the entire chorus.

Unfortunately, the couple sitting in front of me missed the Gloria Gainer tribute because they took their young children home after Act I, due, as I overheard, to the show's "inappropriateness." And it is a good thing they did because Act II wasn't getting any cleaner. In "Tea for Three," for example, the third song in Act II and one of the best examples of the show's lewdness, Stella sings these lines while bending over between two members of the cast (pun intended): "I am in a boil and I am ready to steam/Just drop in a teabag and throw in/plenty of cream."

While "Tea for Three" was slightly over the top, it was not atypical of the humor. At times during the show, it seemed as though every line out of someone's mouth concerned genitalia and/or having sexual intercourse. The majority of the lines of Newt Erd (Bryan Leach), for example, the castrated detective bull-dog, revolve around his conspicuous lack of testicles. Typical of his blunt retorts, Newt responds to one of the characters in Act II, "Actually, I have no sack." But that was clear by the bandage sewn onto his costume (and his lines throughout Act I).

The ribaldry of the Hasty Pudding Theatricals is what makes it the Hasty Pudding Theatricals. To enjoy the show, you do better to know this beforehand. But if in the last few years you've been wondering whether or not HPT is for you, this is a good year to find out because where other shows have fallen short, in my opinion, "I Get No Kick from Campaign" delivers.

It is intensely aware of its own absurdity and constantly pokes fun at itself and its form. The songs are catchy ("Houdinis of Whodunit") or endearing ("Blue Suede Blues"); and the cast appears to be genuinely enjoying itself on stage. Furthermore, (as these things go) the plot is compelling. (Present-day presidential candidate General Lee Aliar (Jason Mills) threatens to ban Rock 'n Roll in exchange for campaign funding from disco-freak Hal Elujah; in order to save Rock 'n Roll, Elvis impersonator Al Shookup (Seth Fenton) travels back in time from the year 2099 to Philadelphia in 1787, where he elicits the help of Founding Father sidekick Brook Worm (Adam "Waka" Green '99).)

Before plunking down $27 per ticket, though, keep in mind that the Pudding Show is limited by its form: men in drag who make jokes about their private parts, even when they are frolicking in song, go only so far. A related aspect of the Pudding Show which bothers people each year is its exclusion of women. Does HPT violate the spirit of Harvard's non-discrimination policy? Probably. So should women be allowed to perform in the show? Probably not--if students and audiences believe the HPT form is worthwhile.

The reason is the same one that men should not be allowed to join the Rockettes: the show will not be the show if the other sex joins it. Personally, in all my college career I've never quite understood what all the HPT hype is about. If women joined and the form were to change, it wouldn't bother me much. But 151 years of caca-doody humor say I'm in the minority. And this year, if you're in the mood for the Pudding Show, you won't be well hung--I mean, hung out to dry.

Daniel M. Suleiman '99 was editorial chair of The Crimson in 1998. The Crimson traditionally prints a review of the Pudding show on the editorial page.