Theater review: 'Footloose'

“Footloose” is kicking up its heels at The Players Centre for Performing Arts — a Tony Award-winning musical adapted from the 1984 movie of the same name. I’d never seen the original film. I figured I didn’t need to.

I knew the broad outlines of the high-concept plot: a holy roller gets dancing outlawed in a hick Nebraska town; a young hoofer arrives from Chicago and sets everybody free. (“Free,” as in the inalienable right to cut a rug.) How predictable can you get? I expected a grab bag of teen-movie tropes set to catchy ’80s tunes by Kenny Loggins and friends. Then the curtain goes up …

And the musical actually has substance. Imagine my surprise.

Tropes, yes — but always with a twist. No Bible-thumper, Rev. Moore is a thoughtful man who quotes Walt Whitman and listens to classical music. He isn’t a mindless hater of fun; his anti-dance stance is a response to tragedy — a post-dance car wreck that killed five kids, including his son. Ren, the new kid, is a catalyst, not a moonwalking messiah. Suppression, not repression, kills the town’s exuberant expression of life. The good Reverend isn’t a puppet master. The grieving menfolk want to clamp down, and they use his sermons as a convenient excuse. The men give up; the women shut up. But, as sure as eggs are eggs, Ren starts a dance revolution, and the musical ends with a life-affirming sock-hop. Yes, rock ’n roll will move your body and free your mind! It’s the mother of all teen-movie tropes. But it doesn’t feel like a cheat.

Director Kathy Junkins walks the line between the musical’s artifice and the nitty-gritty reality it stands for. The shining example is the scene where Ren and Ariel speak of their hopes on a bridge one starry night. I’ve seen it before, but she makes me buy it.

It’s a talented, high-energy cast, mostly youthful. They throw themselves into it, and definitely look like they’re having fun.

As the musical flips its tropes, it also subverts its stock characters. A.J. Cali’s Ren is charismatic, without being “poor me” or “look at me” obnoxious. He can’t be reduced to picked-on outsider or swivel-hipped savior. His love interest, Ariel, (Paige Galdieri) is fully aware of the assumptions that “preacher’s daughter” triggers — and simultaneously revolts and uses it to her advantage. Willard (Martin McHugh) isn’t really a dumb cowboy. But he lets people think he is, because it lets him off the hook. Chuck (Jesse Rosenfeld) isn’t predestined to be a juvenile delinquent. But the town needs a bad boy, and he’s happy to oblige. Asia Dekle, Cassandra Caballero and Sunny Smith’s female characters aren’t minor; they're just marginalized by the small-minded small town. Rev. Moore once felt the touch of God and moved hearts with his words. “Thou shalt not” is the hole he crawled into after his son’s death. But he’s more than a grieving parent, and more than the Reverend of No.

Great performances, based on well-written characters. The mind that imagined them into existence actually cared.

The combination of chart-topping ’80s hits, Berry Ayers’ music direction and Dennis Clark’s choreography gets everybody jumping for joy. (For a town where dance is strictly verboten, there’s a whole lot of shaking going on.) Michael Newton Brown’s inventive set design serves the story and doesn’t compete. Tim Beltley’s costumes are goofy-funny and period accurate. Yes, Virginia; people dressed like that in the 1980s. Not me, personally. But some people.

If dance stands for the joy of living, the law against it stands for the fear of living — the urge to play it safe and keep your head down. That’s an easy target for caricature. But the musical tries to make you understand the urge.

Along with the song and dance, the musical offers thoughtful character studies and a well-painted portrait of small town life.

 “Footloose” isn’t perfect, but it’s honest. It could’ve easily been a facile, formulaic, feel-good musical. But it strives for a higher goal and never insults your intelligence.

You’ll feel good, but you won’t feel cheated.