Casting's a bitch. (Forgive such language, my Seussical chums, for I am clearly an uncultured bum.) But just imagine if Mike Myers had been this capable in that unfortunate film about the feline in floppy headgear.
Seussical the Musical, opening Super Summer Theatre's 30th season, has a spring in its paws from the buoyant, beguiling lead performance-cum-gymnastic exhibition of Steve Huntsman as the Cat in the Hat.
As soon as he literally somersaults onstage, a human Slinky on rocket fuel, Huntsman's peripatetic pussycat flat out owns this musical synthesis of the works of Dr. Seuss, frolicking with Horton the Elephant, Yertle the Turtle, the Whos and other Seussian sidekicks. It's rare that one performer in an ensemble piece is alone worth the price of admission, but Huntsman is.
This theatrical pinwheel about a child's magical journey to self-understanding may pack all the weight, taste and texture of cotton candy, but as deftly directed by Phil Shelburne, it's frothy entertainment that plays like a bird winging from an open palm. If it's tinged with the good doc's familiar message-mongering—war is bad, individuality is good, equality is great—the preaching never intrudes on its own sense of wonder.
Though Seussical received a Grinchy reception on Broadway—only a six-month run over 2000-2001—it fits fabulously with the family-centric, outdoor ambience at Spring Mountain Ranch. Seussical seems too kid-friendly to have thrived in New York's expensive environs, where parents would balk at taking out loans for Broadway tickets for a diversion for their children. But it's a regional theater godsend (the rights were released last year), delighting and introducing theater to kids at a reasonable cost.
With the original material trimmed to 90 intermission-less minutes, its plot mostly propelled through its expansive score, Seussical does a mix-and-match with characters from several of the books, the foundation provided by Horton Hears a Who and Horton Hatches the Egg. The tale takes off when Horton (Sean Critchfield) hears voices from a speck of dust, which contains the smallest planet in the universe. And on it live the Whos, whom only Horton can hear. (Motto: "A person's a person no matter how small.") Facing enormous skepticism, he still insists the Whos exist, while young JoJo (Brendyn Bell), the son of Whoville's mayor and his wife, faces similar ridicule, ostracized for the act of thinking. (Motto: "Oh, the thinks you can think.") Sprinkle with all things Seussian and Seussical lights up the night sky like a brilliant firefly.
Huntsman's star turn is amply bolstered by a stellar cast. With admirable stage presence, 11-year-old Bell proves himself a small ball of magnetism. As Mayzie, the shady-lady bird of the jungle who gets her way with a sexy shake of her feathered booty—talk about cheeky charm—Satomi Hofmann does more than steal scenes; she commits armed robbery. Unfortunately, as Horton, Critchfield is hamstrung by the restraints of a character so relentlessly sweet, it gives him virtually one level to play, amounting to a drone despite an assured singing voice.
Evan Bartoletti's shimmering sets of shifting geometric shapes in Crayola greens, pinks and yellows—not to mention blue hair and a deep-red lobster—manage to be brightly understated, as are Shelly Calister's costumes. Several props nicely re-create that sketchy, Seuss-like look, so evocative in so few paint strokes. And Suzanne Childers' choreography is compact and snappy.
The cheery score's consistent melodic mood feels of a piece, with several winners, including the jaunty "Oh the Thinks You Can Think" and "How Lucky You Are," the yearning of "Notice Me, Horton" and the dreamy "Solla Sollew."
But bouncing above, around and throughout is Huntsman's Cat, so dynamic a ringmaster that he evokes memories of Jim Dale's Barnum on Broadway. Packing enough personality to people a small Seussian village, his voice pole-vaulting around octaves, lanky frame racing atop rubbery legs, Huntsman nails every exaggerated note, but keeps it dancing on the razor's edge between enormously entertaining and mega-mugging.
He symbolizes what makes Seussical a lovely daydream after nightfall.