A real Beauty URI stages an enchanting Beast BY BILL RODRIGUEZ
	Beauty and the Beast Music by Alan Menken, lyrics by Howard Ashman & Tim Rice, book by Linda Woolverton. Directed by Paula McGlasson, with musical direction by Lila Kane, choreography by Denise Lachowski. With Tiffany Page, Brad W. Kirton, Donald J. Dallaire, Seth Finkle, Chris Mahn, Dan DaCunha, Jaclyn Marfuggi, Richard A. Blue, Erin M. Olson, Dylan Rosser, and Alison Kantrowich. At URI Theatre through December 12.

There certainly is a lot of talent out there. And fortunately much of it is becoming polished at colleges, in theater, voice, and dance departments. Shimmering evidence is the current production of the musical Beauty and the Beast, which is getting a knockout workout at URI Theatre.

College productions, since they can assemble DeMillean casts of thousands, have always been an occasion for shows you won’t often see elsewhere. (Some 1930s American classics seem designed largely to get as many actors as possible out of the bread lines, prohibitively expensive for most commercial theaters today.) Shows with lots of hoofing offer further challenges. There were musicals that the late Theatre-by-the-Sea didn’t book because dancers are expensive.

Director Paula McGlasson and choreographer Denise Lachowski have pulled together a cast of nearly three dozen, from on- and off-campus, and ringmastered them giddy for our unflagging entertainment.

For those of you who don’t know a six-year-old, this work is based on the Disney animation, a cutesy gloss on the original fairy tale, with apologies to French folklore and Carl Jung. The adaptation nonetheless hews true to noble sentiments of tolerance and humility, addressed to the child within us (who has been trying for years to get through about that to the adult within us).

Our innocent beauty is Belle, performed with remarkable voice and considerable charming presence by Tiffany Page. The damsel is regarded as odd in this medieval French village because she loves to read. Wooing her to doomed avail is a macho caricature in the form of Gaston, played with smug zest by Donald J. Dallaire, complete with the cleft chin one song specifies. The hunk of preening beefcake is given such single-minded songs as "Me," in which the line "all that love implies" is rhymed with "rather like my thighs." His comical sidekick/worshipper Lefou is well-cast with the moon-faced Seth Finkle.

Belle’s father, Maurice (Chris Mahn), is an oddity (catching on to the subtext?) because he is a Gyro Gearloose sort of inventor, who we first see in a clever wood-fired vehicle he devised. When he wanders into the woods and flees from wolves into a dark castle — which, somehow, the village never has noticed — a fuming Beast (Brad W. Kirton) imprisons him for intruding. Thus the setup for Belle volunteering to exchange places with her father, our fanged anti-hero given a chance to learn to love and be loved and thereby return to human form.

Nearly 10 years ago the Beast was enchanted, and the rose that serves as his botanical countdown clock has been losing petals at an alarming rate. Transformed along with the prince were his many servants, all changed into household objects. They too have been gradually losing any remnants of observable humanity, so their stake in his potential romance would have them biting their nails if they had hands and fingers left.

My favorite is Lumiere, of the candled digits, because the appropriately lanky Dan DaCunha not only retains his amusing Maurice Chevalier accent but also delivers an engaging cartoon of a character, with Jaclyn Marfuggi’s feather duster Babette tickling his fancy. (Sorry, this show is lousy with puns.) Also furnishing the principal laughs skillfully are Richard A. Blue as Cogsworth, the clock; Erin M. Olson as Mrs. Potts, trailed by Dylan Rosser as her boy Chip; and Alison Kantrowich as Madame de la Grande Bouche, a former opera diva now a clothes closet.

The big "Be Our Guest" banquet production number, which is boring overkill in the animation, is enjoyably opulent entertainment now that we’re on stage in Busby Berkeley-ville. The actors’ dictum to avoid bumping into the furniture here is surreally renewed. Choreographer Lachowski has her charges stick to coordinated movement when actual dancing would be too tricky with a plate or crossed cutlery strapped to backs. But occasionally things do wax balletic, such as when four lovely blond-wigged serviettes pirouette beautifully instead of merely flapping about. Working even better is the ensemble’s number in the tavern, with intricate stein-clanking (apparently this is the part of France along the Rhine) and athletic line dancing by the men.

Obviously, costume designer David T. Howard has been a busy little beaver who should get a second check as prop master, too. He’s come up with bread-loaf epaulettes and a cheese-board hat and many more of the like for the banquet number, on top of the cheerful peasant garb, Belle’s gowns, etc. Not to be outdone, scenic designer Christian Wittwer gives us numerous colorful sets, from dank forest and castle to sprightly village square and a tavern with more antlers and weaponry on the walls than the Pentagon Officers Club.

As the title characters, Page and Kirton click nicely. He is also in good voice, and easily handles the rage-to-romance mood shifts of our poor, shaggy prince. The orchestra, under the direction of Lila Kane, helps bring to life the able ensemble singing, whether for the Jacques Brel lilt of "Human Again" or the wistful sadness of the title song.

Beauty and the Beast may be Disney two-dimensionality popped into life, but this URI Theatre production can make you glad Uncle Walt was such a schmaltzy sucker.