Tony 'n' Tina's Nuptials Take the Cake

Toss the bouquet to Tony 'n' Tina's Wedding, which invites the audience into the act even before the "show" begins. In the lobby of the Weisfeld Center—a domed rental hall south of downtown that was once a Christian Science church—members of the wedding party mix with the crowd waiting to enter the theater. Ricky DeMarco, the goombah videographer (played by David Ristuccia), is the one in the sparkly leopard-print sport coat, hair gelled up in Gotti grandson spikes. The big usher is Dominic (Bryan Hardy), a lumbering box of rocks who had a thing going with dainty Sister Albert Maria (Jana McGill) before she decided to marry Jesus.

Step out to the front steps to sneak a smoke before being seated, only to see a couple of younger "groomsmen" passing a (fake) joint around. Visit the ladies' room and the bride might be there, wailing about her controlling mama (Sooze Johnson). This is 360-degree entertainment. In the pews during the 30-minute nuptials or downstairs at the two-hour seated dinner and reception, wherever you look, at least one of the 25 characters is doing something that at a real family gathering would be grounds for deletion from the Christmas list.

Tony and Tina first spoke their vows (he fumbles and pledges his "fertility") 20 years ago this month in the Greenwich Village production that went on to run 11 years at St. John's Church on Christopher Street. It eventually moved uptown to the Edison Hotel, where it's still playing. Part tongue-in-cheek statement on the painfully mundane rituals of most American weddings, part dangerously unscripted play, Tony 'n' Tina's Wedding was at the vanguard of immersive theater pieces. After it came The 25th Annual Putnam County Spelling Bee, which plucks "competitors" from their seats for a spell-off. More recently in New York City, the shows De La Guarda, Fuerzabruta and Etiquette have forced actors and theatergoers to intermingle, often in uncomfortably close proximity.

The idea behind Tony 'n' Tina's Wedding was to create a living cartoon in which the audience aids the actors in creating a show. Except for scripted sections at the wedding ceremony and toward the end of the reception, no two performances are alike. It all depends on how game theatergoers are to interact with the characters. Sometimes, especially after the cash bar opens, it's hard to tell who's playing a role and who's not.

The Dallas production casts New York actors in the four leads. Scott Belucchi and Denise Fennell have married each other as Tony Nunzio and Tina Vitale for a decade. He swaggers like a two-bit mook. She honks like a scalded goose. And the drunker their characters get, the funnier they are.

Richard LaRosa is gelatinous wedding singer Donny Dulce. Notice how he changes outfits between songs, each get-up tighter and uglier than the one before. Dennis O'Neill plays Vinnie Black, rug-wearing caterer and master of the microphone. Sample Vinnie humor: "What's a seven-course Irish meal? A six-pack and a potato." Bah-dum-bump.

The rest of the actors are locals, though you wouldn't guess it from their New Joisey-to-Queens accents. The groom's widower dad, Tony Sr., played by former Keller city councilman James Badalamenti, growls and glowers like a member of Uncle Junior's crew. In the role of Tony Sr.'s way young stripper-girlfriend Madeline Monroe, Amanda Durbin becomes a bimbo extraordinaire. She's the buxom skunk at the picnic, getting so loaded at the reception, she hops atop a table and shake-dances right out of her silver lamé frock. (Warning: If you're thinking of bringing kids to this show, don't!)

At any time during or after the banquet—salad, spaghetti and wedding cake catered by Fair Park's Old Mill Inn Restaurant—Father Mark (Midlothian actor Mark Hall, using a grrrand Scottish burr) might join your table for a little chat. When he thinks no one's watching, the affable padre sneaks snorts of the wet stuff till he's so bladdered he has to be dragged out by his armpits.

Tina's fresh-out-of-rehab ex-beau Michael is played to a twitchy turn by Preston Flagg, who's quick with improvised quips. Hey, Mikey, what's that bulge under your jacket? "A beer," he whispers. "In my 12-step program, the fifth step is to take one step back."