‘Drowsy Chaperone’ everything but sleepy

Super Summer Theatre/P.S. Productions' "The Drowsy Chaperone" is one of those musicals guaranteed to keep you awake.

Director Philip Shelburne has constructed a seamless tapestry of singing, dancing and comedic happiness.

Steve McMillan as a middle-aged, lonely man sits in his drab apartment and shares with the audience his love of cast recordings. He puts on an album (yes, album) and, suddenly, the characters of his favorite score -- the fictional 1928 "The Drowsy Chaperone" -- come to life.

The show-within-a-show has a silly story -- will she (that bullet of a talent Shannon Winkel) marry him (the amazingly versatile Steve Huntsman)? Will the producer (the authoritative and maniacal Joe Hynes) find a way to keep the show open without his leading lady? Will the rich woman (Andee Gibbs) stop being a snob and marry the butler (Robert Brown)?

But the real plot is watching McMillan as he takes it all in, comments on the action, or helps a faulty needle skip over a groove. It's obvious musical theater transforms his character. There's a warm moment in the end, when the cast of the phantom musical looks to him with a smile as if to say, "Thank you for loving us. We live to touch the lives of people like you."

Most of the cast members have the talent you'd expect on a Broadway stage.

Gibbs, in her Medusa red curls, is all giddy and gaudy as the nerdy widow Mrs. Tuttendale. She's a cross between one of the "Wizard of Oz" munchkins and Little Orphan Annie.

Brown is her perfect foil -- a proper butler who has learned the art of allowing himself to be continuously spit upon.

Ayler Evan seems to have invented a new degree of vanity as Aldolpho, a man who believes he is all things to all women.

Kellie Wright's drunken vamp is a portrait of cynicism. She's incapable of caring about anything that doesn't concern her. And, wow, can that lady sing.

Nightmares await me for all the performers I don't have space to mention.

Suffice it to say Tracey Corea has come up with some nonstop tongue-in-cheek footwork. And technically, the show rises to the level of the material.

Shelburne exhibits an expertly executed unity of vision. As a director, he's constantly becoming more exact, effortless. I hope he never becomes satisfied.

Anthony Del Valle can be reached at vegastheaterchat @aol.com. You can write him c/o Las Vegas Review-Journal, P.O. Box 70, Las Vegas, NV 89125.