What do you get when you cross a group of casual actors, a decent knowledge of pop culture and some cutting satire of wildly inaccurate stereotypes? No, not Mad TV. The result is HellaDeck, Oberlin’s fall musical. Opening Friday, HellaDeck has been the subject of much chatter. As to this chatter, HellaDeck does not live up to the hype. It was supposed to jar the sensibility of every audience member with bleak send-ups of ourselves and our southern brethren. It failed. Offensive? Failed. Controversial? Failed. But, you know what? That is all right. Why? Because HellaDeck’s best chance was to be a fun musical and, at that, it has succeeded.

The playwrights have chosen to tackle two very easy targets, posers and rednecks. Never have people who pretend to be hipsters (half of the campus) and marginal southerners who pretend to be down-home rednecks (Jeff Foxworthy) been so adroitly satirized. Watching a clique of hopesters debate over the pronunciation of !!!, a band no longer musically significant but still retaining some indie street cred, perfect fodder for hopester jabber, is enjoyable in its pure absurdity. The result is a coming together of one group that wishes it was a different group with another group that does not exist. Hey, look – a musical!

In performance, the results are varied; group numbers tend to bring out this fact, serving as a virtual line-up for the audience to identify talent. The majority of the cast is passable, but there are a few notable exceptions. As Sally Mae Flax, the mayor’s daughter, Rachel Jacobs is quite good. Her first song, “Tonight I’m Gonna Lock My Door,” in which she breaks off a relationship, is done so well that one almost forgets it is addressed to her brother. Also superlative is Munib Raad, who plays faux-British hopester Jack. Because he is so precise with his characterization, it is a shame that he practically vanishes from Act II. Along with these two, solid performances were turned in by Melissa Bayern as the feminist/ burlesque dancing hipster, Renata Strause, as the over-stuffed mayor and Lindsay Garces as the crush-worthy moral relativist.

Alongside these fine jobs, a few performances were found lacking. James Putnam’s performance as the redneck mayor’s son who spends his leisure time shooting rats was acceptable, but one gets the sneaking suspicion that it comes less from character work and more from the fact that the actor might share some traits with the character. Particularly off-putting is the way Putnam squeezes Bayern’s backside during an unexpected – if that is possible in this play – kiss; such overt naturalism in a play that is grounded in the overblown betrays some personal motives on the part of Putnam.

My advice to you is: see HellaDeck. See it knowing that it is silly. See it because it is timely and always has an Oberlin audience in mind (Ted Leo jokes don’t go over well at Bates). See it because you dye your hair and listen to Best of the Smiths and talk about what a hipster you are or because you wear overalls without a shirt and make out with your siblings. Actually, if you fall into the last two groups, you shouldn’t see it; you’ll probably be offended.