With a heavy tread, "Young Frankenstein" - excuse me, "The New Mel Brooks Musical Young Frankenstein," to use the official title - landed at the Hippodrome on Tuesday night, almost fiendishly eager to entertain.
Those who have a high tolerance for obvious sight and verbal gags, frat boy-level vulgarity and compose-by-number songs will most fully embrace this stop on the Broadway show's first national tour. Those who might like the occasional dollop of substance could get squirmy. Those who, worn down by the various woes of the day, simply crave an escape should find Transylvania fairly diverting this time of year.
Although Brooks turned one of his other comic films, "The Producers," into a remarkably clever, widely appealing musical, he settled for much less with "Young Frankenstein," taking the cheapest, easiest shot whenever possible. It feels lazy.
Not that it matters much. This big hulk of a show is essentially impervious to critical dissection. It's Brooks, not Brecht, after all. As usual, he fires everything in his arsenal at the audience, and some of it is bound to jolt even Brooks-resistant types.
There was in the black-and-white film "Young Frankenstein" a stylish flair that Brooks has not attempted to duplicate. We're in full, practically HD-worthy color here; not a subtlety in sight. But the suitably imposing, fast-changing set by Robin Wagner, along with William Ivey Long's stitch-perfect costumes, delivers plenty of atmospheric eye candy. The ride through the forest to Frankenstein's castle, complete with an amusing version of a horse-drawn carriage, and the huge laboratory that crackles with electricity are among the scenes that pay off handsomely.
Folks familiar with the movie will, of course, be fully plugged into the plot. Newcomers won't have any trouble catching on, as Dr. Frederick Frankenstein - he insists on the pronunciation "Franken-steen"- heads to Transylvania to settle the estate of his grandfather, the notoriously mad scientist. There, he inherits an inconsistently hunchbacked servant, Igor (pronounced, of course, "Eye-gore"); buxom lab assistant Inga, who can yodel and roll in the hay with equal enthusiasm; and a previously unsuspected yen to reanimate the dead.
The payoff, as in the film, is the transformation of Frankenstein's monster from an inarticulate zipper-head to a shy creature who discovers an unlikely song-and-dance flair.
There's still something irresistible about the sight of that big, green-skinned amalgamation of once-buried body parts donning top hat and tails and gradually going Astaire. This number is to "Young Frankenstein" what "Springtime for Hitler" is to both versions of "The Producers," and it provides the show's most exuberant kick.
Tellingly, this scene is also "Young Frankenstein's" most rewarding musical moment, and the one not written by Brooks. After so many of his negligible songs, including a paltry lead-in to the "Ritz" routine called "Man About Town," what a relief it is to hear the Berlin classic. It inspires particularly vivid work, too, from Susan Stroman, the show's choreographer and director (less impressive is her repetitive way of ending ensemble pieces with everyone center stage, arms outstretched, wide smiles frozen on faces).
It's not that I would expect priceless, peerless songs from Brooks. And, at his best, he can certainly turn out perfectly serviceable material, as in the Frankenstein/Igor buddy song, "Together Again," and the imitation-Al Jolson, sock-it-to-the-balcony number "Please Send Me Someone" for the blind hermit who gets a surprise visitor.
But Brooks' tendency to follow routine melodic and harmonic paths sure can get tiresome. Same for his patter songs, which frequently have to strain for a rhyme, a joke or both ("Your genitalia have been known to fail ya"). The score really hits bottom when, after the monster's first escape, the townsfolk are stuck repeatedly bellowing a semi-tune to the words "he's loose."
Given the extensive debt this show owes to vaudeville, vintage musicals and burlesque (there's so much fixation on the upper portion of the female body that the title could be "Young Frankenbreast"), maybe Brooks would have been wiser to borrow a whole bunch of good, proven songs instead.
Oh well, no use in wishing for more. And, whatever reservations may be registered about the product, the delivery is first-rate.
The cast gets spiritedly into the proceedings. Re-creating their Broadway roles are Roger Bart, whose Frankenstein is alive with vocal and physical nuance, and Shuler Hensley, whose monster proves a most endearing fellow.
The nimble Cory English has a field day as Igor. Anne Horak, um, fills out the role of Inga engagingly. Beth Curry scores some strong vocal and comic hits as Frankenstein's appearance-obsessed fianc?e, Elizabeth. Joanna Glushak relishes each outburst as the horse-frightening Frau Blucher, and Brad Oscar is terrific doing double duty as the Inspector and the Hermit. The ensemble sings and dances its way through the show dynamically.
Robert Billig conducts the small, synthesizer-reliant band, which, thanks to some very colorful arrangements, helps put a lot of flesh on the vaporous score.
If you go
"Young Frankenstein" runs through Jan. 24 at the France-Merrick Performing Arts Center, 12 N. Eutaw St. Show times: 8 p.m. Tuesday-Friday; 2 p.m., 8 p.m. Saturday; 1 p.m., 6:30 p.m. Sunday. $24-$85. Call 410-547-7328 or go to www.france-merrickpac.com or ticketmaster.com.