Nothing is constant except for change. That may be true everywhere — everywhere except for Notre Dame. When the "2002 Keenan Revue" opened with Green Day's "Basketcase," the whining may have been from a different time and place, but the words were the same.

The "Keenan Revue" was born in the cold November nights of 1976. The brainchild of Tom Lenz and Rick Thomas, class of '77, the Revue was begun for a number of reasons.

Notre Dame in 1976 elicited many of the same complaints as it does today: a social scene that revolves around alcohol, poor relationships between the sexes and an oppressive administration. The campus was in the clutches of the then-Dean of Students James Roemer (a '70's Bill Kirk), who enforced administration rules with an iron fist; something had to break; the rebellion was about to begin.

"This was 1976, about five years after co-education [was introduced], there was a lot of griping about coeducation and the lack of girls … The social situation was bad … I had friends that went to big state universities that were so much more open and free. Notre Dame seemed so tight and buttoned-down," Lenz said.

Lenz and Thomas, both Keenan Hall resident assistants at the time, began to brainstorm ways to lighten up the campus. They wanted to produce an event that did not necessarily involve getting extremely drunk and would relieve the student body's frustration.

The "Revue" was to have meaning in another way: Lenz and Thomas wanted to commemorate the death of a Keenan Hall student, Jim Gallagher, who had been killed the year before while hitchhiking home from Niles, Mich., after a night of drinking under Michigan's 18 year-old drinking age. Notre Dame had reversed a decision to allow any on-campus drinking and students often made the eight-mile trek to Michigan to imbibe.

Lenz and Thomas, with the support of their rector, sought the support of the Keenan Hall president and vice-president, Rich "Bear" Hebert and Jim Sullivan.

Hebert and Sullivan, who had run on a platform of increasing the social life of the hall, finally convinced the hall council to allot their entire fall budget, about $300, to produce the event.

"We didn't know what would come of it; it was an act of faith," Sullivan said.

What would come of it would be one of the most anticipated events on either campus: The first Revue on Nov. 6, 1976 would found a tradition that has endured for 26 years. A bunch of self-described cut-ups wanting to express their frustration and commemorate a friend ended up creating something beautiful.

The "New Keenan Revue," as it was then known, was organized as a talent show, but neither Lenz nor Thomas knew the kind of talent that Keenan Hall would produce. The first show ran the Vaudeville gambit of acts with a pianist, a juggler, a barbershop quartet, a violinist, a few skits and a mock news update.

The would-be small talent show produced in the decrepit Washington Hall — where bats would swoop at the audience from the dark ceiling — attracted a crowd that flooded the seating, the floor, the lobby and snaked around the sides of the building. The audience went so wild for the meager show, the group gave an encore performance the next weekend.

"The thing that was really astonishing about it was that we had envisioned a hall talent show, and there was so much talent ... It really took on a life of its own," Lenz said.

Lenz is proud of helping to found the "Revue;" he even uses the story in his professional work as a community organizer.

"It's a tremendous personal satisfaction [to have helped found the "Keenan Revue."] I often tell the story of the "Keenan Revue" as a sort of parable about the hidden talents people have … The enduring lesson it taught me was that there's a lot of hidden talent in people that never sees the light of day," Lenz said.

This year's "Keenan Revue," themed "The 2002 Palindrome Revue," follows the precedents set 26 years ago. "Revue" producer junior Dave Cantos still sees the show as representing something productive at Notre Dame.

"[The "Keenan Revue" is] a good way to see what goes on in the life of a college student. It's also a good way to have a little faith in college students these days … [it shows that] there is a lot of talent here and when parents send their kids to school they just don't sit around their dorm rooms and drink," Cantos said.

Cantos, like most of the men in the show, has been involved in the production since his freshman year. Four years ago, Cantos' RA was the head writer of the "Revue" and encouraged Cantos to tryout for the show. Cantos was cast in the opening skit that year and has increased his involvement each year; the "2002 Keenan Revue" features three of Cantos' skits.

The "Revue" is presented to the student body free of charge, even though the show costs about $11,000 to put on. Although the "Revue" is traditionally produced in only one week, the organization of the show begins as soon as students return from summer break in August.

As producer, Cantos is in charge of raising funds, mostly from alumni donations, T-shirt sales and advertising in the program. But, the bulk of Cantos' responsibilities were completed about a week before the show. It was then that senior Kevin Carney took the helm to direct the show.

The "Keenan Revue" is traditionally rehearsed for only one week. Last Friday, Cantos and Carney began their day-and-a-half audition process for acts in the show. About 95 acts were presented for consideration, but Cantos and Carney could only accommodate about 25 for the show. The pair felt that the selection process was difficult because they had to cut acts that were worthy of being in the show.

Carney looked for acts that would be more progressive than in previous years; he wanted new jokes and new ideas (although many running jokes remained unchanged).

"While I'll laugh at the dirtier and raunchier stuff, I wanted to make sure the show wasn't all about that. I think that we did a pretty good job of keeping the pretty derogatory and across the line stuff out of the show," Carney said.

Neither Carney nor Cantos has had any previous theatre experience, except for Carney's 12-line role as Butch the schoolyard bully in his elementary school's production of "Little Red Schoolhouse." They see the show as it has always been: a night of entertainment and leisure, not a full-scale theatrical production.

"You kind of have to sit back sometimes and remember that you're just a student that plays video games and drinks beer on the weekend with your friends … we're just a bunch of guys who are trying to give something fun to the Notre Dame and Saint Mary's campuses," Carney said.

In fact, Cantos doesn't think that success of the "Keenan Revue" has anything to do with a special quality of Keenan Hall or its residents. The success of the "Keenan Revue," he believes, comes from the idea of the show itself as an activity to promote creativity and entertainment.

"I think maybe it's the show itself that brings out the funny parts of people who don't think they're funny," Cantos said.

Funny, is of course the simplest way to classify the antics on stage at the "Keenan Revue."

Following in the steps of its founders, the "2002 Keenan Revue" begins with a musical cover. The high-energy introduction is, of course, topped off by the cast of the show removing their shirts and performing a marching band-esque dance culminating with the mass removal of their quick-release pants — perhaps a more modern addition to the show.

The "Revue" leaves almost no issue on campus unscorched — from an ROTC-style physical training session for Pax Christi, to a parody of teaching assistants that cannot speak English.

Although this year's "Revue" roasts campus groups for particular characteristics, Carney and Cantos cut down on some of the more offensive material from previous years.

But "Revue" fans will certainly still see their favorite stereotypes on the O'Laughlin stage: Breen-Phillips Hall girls are fat, Farley Hall girls smoke, McGlinn Hall girls have head lice and Pasquerilla Hall West girls are hairy (or "giant, weightlifting pandas" as the case may be).

Absent are some of the stereotypes that fueled the controversy last year for which the Saint Mary's Board of Governance considered a ballot initiative to prohibit the "Revue" from happening on its campus. Carney and Cantos wanted to stress the function of the Revue as a coming together of the Notre Dame and Saint Mary's communities.

"It ties the two campuses together," Cantos said.

The Revue still takes its fair share of shots at campus institutions with skits that revolve around a George O'Leary Career Center, a halftime show in which the marching band salutes hip-hop, a review of the year's most famous typos and debacles in The Observer and, of course, the ubiquitous Jesus jokes.

Most of the skits are original material. From a dead-on reenactment of the classic Nintendo game "Mike Tyson's Punch-out" to the standup comedy styling of Ryan Cunningham, the acts in the "2002 Keenan Revue" show a remarkable creativity and vibrancy.

While some skits were fairly traditional such as the "Saved by the Bell" skit, others bordered on the bizarre. Skits like "Dwarf Invasion 2," in which German dwarf punk rockers play a rowdy piece about their impending invasion, and "Yatta!," where six cast members lip-sync the lyrics to the scantily clad Japanese boy band group of the same name, offer an odd look into the minds of the men of Keenan Hall.

In the end, all those involved in the show or those that have been involved in the show feel that all their hard work has been worth it.

"If I helped get one guy a date at Notre Dame, I would think my time was well-spent," Sullivan said.

Contact C. Spencer Beggs @ beggs.3@nd.edu.

• 'The Keenan Revue' — 26 years of the same old song