Theater writers often honor talent by turning names into adjectival descriptions like Shakespearean, Brechtian, Chekhovian. Let's add Brooksian to the list. Define it? That's easy. Wild, wacky, over the top, derivative, rowdy, raunchy, extremely entertaining. There probably are more, but those are good enough to describe "Young Frankenstein," the Mel Brooks musical that opened last night at the Fox Theatre and will bring joy and laughter through May 23.
The multi-talented Brooks, closing in on his 85th birthday (June 28), has been a great comic writer for generations, and even if he's recycling some of his favorite tunes, themes and jokes, they remain funny. He wrote music and lyrics for this tour of Transylvania, teamed with Thomas Meehan on the book and, I'm sure, helped with the casting and probably gave a lot of suggestions to the brilliant director and choreographer, Susan Stroman, most of which she wisely ignored.
With some fine acting that was mostly way over the top–and deliberately so–and splendid tech work that began with a dazzling set by Robin Wagner, mix-and-mix costumes by William Ivey Long and spectacular lighting design by Peter Kaczorowski, the tale of Frederick Frankenstein (Frank-en-Stine or Fronk-en-Steen, depending on the mood of the moment) isn't serious for a moment. He's a high-level physician and brain surgeon in New York when his grandfather, Dr. Victor von Frankenstein, dies and Freddie inherits his castle in beautiful Transylvania Heights.
Brooks also knows that sex sells, so we have a large handful of leggy, busty women, topped by red-haired New Yorker Elizabeth (understudy and fine singer Melina Kalomas), who defines her attitude with "Don't Touch Me." She's upstaged (figuratively) two songs later by the blonde Inga (Anne Horak), a Transylvanian tootsie whose assets only a Comstockian might describe as over-developed and over-exposed. She and Roger Bart (both shown below) are terrific in "Roll in the Hay," while Lawrence Alexander and Geo Seery, as sensitive, eager and highly responsive horses, do their best to steal the scene.
Bart is splendid in the title role, singing and dancing and clowning, and pairing delightfully with Igor, the hunchback servant whose protuberance moves around, though not as much as Igor. James Gray replaces Cory English in the role, but there is no dimming of talent; English was the dance captain and understudy to Igor in the Broadway original.
There are many other bright performances. Brad Oscar doubles as the police inspector whose prosthetic limbs only cost him an arm and a leg, and as the blind hermit who tries to entertain the escaped monster in some wonderful slapstick and physical comedy. Joanna Glushak is excellent as Frau Blucher, the caretaker in the castle, and Rye Mullis is the Monster, guaranteed not to scare anyone, and he does splendid work in a mammoth dance number to "Puttin' on the Ritz" (Irving Berlin, not Mel Brooks). Tap-dancing may be old-fashioned but it sure is fun, and the cast carried it out splendidly. And there are references to "Chattanooga Choo-Choo," plus songs and lyrics that will recall other songs and lyrics from Brooks' earlier productions. They make one smile, but most of the time, the musical draws real laughter.
Brooks always has pushed the good-taste envelope. Remember the flatulence scene around the campfire in "Blazing Saddles"? He's pushing again, early and often, in "Young Frankenstein," with language that has become so common it is losing the adjective of "bad," and with so much reference to sex that if it weren't for the double-entendres, there would be no entendres at all.
"Young Frankenstein," at the Fox Theatre through May 23
—Joe