Bible belters

TBTS' Joseph rocks and rollicks

by Bill Rodriguez

JOSEPH AND THE AMAZING TECHNICOLOR DREAMCOAT. Lyrics by Tim Rice, music by Andrew Lloyd Webber . Directed by Lennie Watts. With Steven Brennan, Angela Williams, Brent Kuenning, Christopher Sloan, Randy Bobish, Daniel Robert Sullivan. At Theatre-by-the-Sea through August 20.

Like girls, musicals just wanna have fun. And some musicals are simply an excuse to party, like Theatre-by-the-Sea's Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat, which is kicking out the barn-theater jams down in Matunuck.

Terrific voices and scintillating personalities in the key roles turn what could otherwise be a dated though energetic pastiche into a showcase of considerable talent. And it'll be an extra treat if you bring along a kid or two. There are more than two dozen children on-stage as a frolicking chorus, a feature from the original show. The genesis in 1967 was a 15-minute choral cantata for kids, back when Tim Rice, who wrote the lyrics, was 23 and composer Andrew Lloyd Webber was only 19. Their first collaboration was such a success in London that they expanded the production over the years until it was a full-fledged West End and Broadway hit.

Pretty good for what began as a lark inspired by The Wonder Book of Bible Stories. Webber, whose father was a church organist, thought that the story of Joseph would be pretty colorful, and he was right. Joseph -- although maybe we should call him Joey in this context -- is the favorite son of Jacob, whose 11 other boys are jealous of both Dad's favoritism and his gift to Joseph of a "coat of many colors." They respond by selling their sibling into Egyptian slavery. He becomes a servant in the house of chief government minister Potiphar, whose wife falsely accuses Joseph of rape. He is rescued from prison when the pharaoh, who has been having disturbing dreams, hears that Joseph has a reputation for turning nightmares into accurate predictions. Joseph foresees that years of plenty will be followed by years of famine and is made governor, in charge of the necessary rationing. Eventually, the famine drives his brothers to Egypt where they beg Joseph -- not recognizing him -- for food for their people. Surprise, reconciliation, hugs all around.

As you might expect from an intentional hodgepodge of musical styles and comic opportunities, what happens is less important than who is making it happen. Narrating all of this is Angela Williams, whose gilded voice and vivacity wowed me in a URI production of The Wiz a couple of years ago. She's in fine form here, as is Steven Brennan, whose sweet voice and boyish manner make him a perfect Joseph, especially in the gentle "Close Every Door."

There are plenty of opportunities for others to rise to an antic occasion, most notably Brent Kuenning as Pharaoh, in a role so over the top I'm surprised we could see his head. This king is played as The King -- in flat-out Las Vegas mode, hips swiveling, pout perched, astride blue suede boots, an Elvis impersonator slicking back an Egyptian headdress. He's buffed and bare-chested, an appearance that suddenly makes funny an earlier image -- a palace butler in prison with Joseph also had six-pack abs under a Playboy bunny shirtless collar and tie, which makes for a delayed little homoerotic sight gag.

Another scene that's a special hoot is a long lament of the famished brothers, "Those Canaan Days," led by Christopher Sloan. It's done like a languorous Jacques Brel café song. With French accent in full salivatic flood, Sloan waxes nostalgic as the brothers whimper with hunger. The night I attended he improvised cleverly to an audience interruption, as imperiously as a waiter at Lutece. Under the direction of Lennie Watts, a Theatre-by-the-Sea regular, just about every set piece is mined for every potential gag and comical nuance. The "Benjamin Calypso," for example, sung by a wry James Carroll as brother Judah, comes across as funnier than the silly song alone.

Choreographed by Kimberly Galberaith, the company production numbers rock and rollick, updated to hip hop moves upon opportunity. Buoyancy is the common thread through dance styles that range from disco frug to cowboy hoedown. David T. Howard's costumes are similarly festive through a smorgasbord of styles. One disappointment I had was with David Fortuna's scenic design. While the dull hue of sand is appropriate background to the stairways of the single set, I was sometimes distracted by, ironically, the bare walls. Even just colored lighting or a few more flats dropping down would have helped.

Nevertheless, it would take a lot to dampen the high spirits of the show. I'm not a fan of this musical, but I certainly am of this production.