Through March 9

Rochester Broadway Theatre League

Auditorium Theatre, 885 E Main St

232-1900 | $30-$55 | rbtl.org

So: awesome. Awesome, awesome, awesome. There is literally nothing bad I can write about Rochester Broadway Theatre League's touring production of "Avenue Q." No sound problems. No weak actors. No crappy sets. Nothing. The play is great, the singing was great, the production was slick - it's a critic's worst nightmare.

"Avenue Q" was the surprise winner for the 2004 Tony Award for Best Musical. In fact, co-writer Robert Lopez writes in his program bio that he's "still reeling" from taking home the Best Score trophy. (It also won for best book, direction, and lead male and female actors, plus a host of Drama Desk awards.) So the show has quite a pedigree, although I suspect it could kind of care less. It's the quintessential Gen X/Y musical, totally post-post-modern, snarky to within an inch of its life, and steeped in 80's nostalgia to boot. And it's also a hell of a lot of fun.

"Avenue Q" is basically a jacked-up version of "Sesame Street." It's a place where humans live side-by-side with puppets and monsters, and nobody blinks an eye. The action begins when puppet Princeton comes to the street to find an apartment. He's a new college grad with an English degree, and thus no real skill set or career plans. He quickly meets the rest of the cast, which includes sweet, lonely Kate Monster; bickering unemployed couple Brian and Christmas Eve; goofy puppet Nicky and his closeted gay Republican roommate, Rod; building superintendent Gary Coleman (yes, that Gary Coleman, although here deliberately played by a woman); and uncouth, porn-loving upstairs neighbor Trekkie Monster.

The cast regularly breaks into song to relay their various 20/30something struggles, including money woes, relationship problems, racism, noise levels during sex, and laughing at the misfortune of others (in the show-stopping "Schadenfreude," my personal anthem since I first heard it years ago). To further the Sesame Street-like feel, throughout the production big-screen TVs descend from the ceiling to deliver colorful life lessons in childlike script, although with an adult twist (the "commitment" and "five nightstands" clips are among the cleverest bits in the show).

The performers are all fantastic, with the standout being Kelli Sawyer as the voices of Kate Monster and the aptly named Lucy the Slut. Sawyer's voice is clear and big and beautiful, and she's a joy to listen to. Lead actor Robert McClure gives just as good in the challenging roles of Princeton and Rod; it's a little terrifying to think that one person switches between such radically different voices in mere seconds, but that's the nature of the show.

It is a little odd, at first, to realize that when the puppets are onstage, you're supposed to focus on the furry characters' actions and not the black-clad humans walking them around, giving them their its voice. But by the second or third song, the weirdness passes, and by the time the vigorous puppet sex scene rolls around, you really can't look at anything besides their flapping, fuzzy bodies.

Seriously, there are no negatives here. I wondered whether intermission would see a mass exodus by some of the more prudish members of the audience (see: vigorous puppet sex scene). But it seemed like almost everybody stuck around and had a great time. Don't miss this one during its limited run.

This week I successfully avoided watching a single second of "American Idol." I've given it up (post to come later today), but I don't think I could ever give up my beloved models. Especially not if they remain as awesome as they are this season.

Thank god for Claire, Whitney, Lauren, Fatima, Katarzyna, Anya, and Dominique. The first four are gorgeous and bitchy; the next two are just plain gorgeous; the last one is just plain bitchy. It's an amazing cocktail. (Stacy-Ann is just...there.) The show hasn't been this much fun since Cycle 6, even if the girls have become increasingly less modelesque.

The photo shoot this week had the girls posing as music genre stereotypes. So Fatima got to portray metal rock, Katarzyna excelled at being emo girl, Whitney channeled Courtney Love for grunge, and so on. Edgy Claire struggled to embrace her inner bumpkin in a campy country shot, and Aimee got the boot for being the most boring R&B diva ever.

The shoot was good (and presided over by big-shot photographer Russell James, most recently of VH1's "The Shot" - which, coincidentally, is also produced by the "Top Model" people. Don't think you're so tricky, Banks!). Tyra's posing teach was insanely brilliant ("When you're stuck, think pain! But also beauty!" This woman gives us such gifts...) But the best part of the episode was the girls repeatedly dog-piling on Dominique.

It's all so high school; Dominique is completely self-absorbed (I mean, the woman refers to herself in the third person. What do you expect?) and, after last episode's blow-up over the phone list, this week we got the story of Dom's alarm clock. Which apparently goes off at all hours of the morning. Repeatedly. And which she refuses to fix. At first this gets Claire (Claire!) in a tizzy, and she precedes to cuss out Dominique, calling her a "shady bitch" (Ha!). Things escalate, and Whitney (of course) and Lauren (gaining huge amounts of respect from me) get into it, climaxing with Lauren literally climbing on top of a chair and screaming at Dominique "You are f**king CRAZY!" Amazing. Just amazing. Later in the episode the feud erupts again. The cattiness! This is what I've been telling them to do!

I won't really miss Aimee. Pretty girl, totally unmemorable. The other interesting tidbit this episode is that the panel loves the short-cut ‘do Katarzyna wore in her emo pic, and Tyra informs her that she'll be getting that haircut for reals next week. Kat seems less than pleased, but she should buck up: this might be the totally useless thing that makes Tyra go from clearly hating her (as the seasons have drawn on, Tyra's ability to fake enthusiasm has dried up; thus far she has given Kat nothing but that hooded-eye "Girl, screw up once and you're out of here" stare) to suddenly thinking she's the best thing EVER. Let's hope so! I love that dimpled Polish goddess.