Love Your Bat Boy

                                     

          In a cave many miles to the south, lives a boy born with fangs in his mouth. And many blocks to the North on Milwaukee Avenue in Wicker Park, Griffin Theatre’s eerily adept local premiere of the Off-Broadway sensation “Bat Boy” thrives. Although the title might suggest a conventional comedic romp about America’s Pastime, it’s definitely not. Inspired by a June 1992 supermarket tabloid article declaring the discovery of an adolescent Chiroptera/Homo Sapien hybrid in a rural West Virginia cavern, it is a marvelous theatrical specimen exploring the profoundest depths of dignity and morality – human and otherwise.

Adapting news satire into a moving fable of universal compassion is one of the most creative and novel concepts for a musical this critic has ever seen. Keythe Farley and Brian Fleming’s book and Laurence O’Keefe’s music and lyrics spin a poignant yarn of emerging maturity and ethics, and embracing genuine idiosyncratic identity, whilst combating the bigotry bred of a Southern one-horse (or one-cow) town’s provincialism. What compels about Griffin’s presentation is it remains true to the work’s original ethos. Having the actors pull the same multiple role duties as in the first imagining of the play (also necessitating performing in drag) enhances the lampoon; and elucidates the cruciality of resisting rejection of the offbeat. Remaining committed to the traditional staging and primary intent proves an astute move and, enriched with a few choice inserts of creative license (exemplified with the townsfolk’s interaction with the audience as if fellow tent revival spectators), allows this production to soar.

The cast performances, too, make this show special. Tiffany Tatreau is a great good girl trying to go bad as love interest Shelley Parker, although chemistry with the “bat child” is sometimes lacking, making it appear her sadistic veterinarian dad’s pheromones aren’t always so potent. More believable as the gossipy Southern biddie than the aggressive redneck beau with violent tendency and impressive screlting (screaming/belting) ability, Jeff Meyer impresses as Rick Taylor/Lorraine. Notwithstanding the other company members’ supernal interpretations, it is Henry McGinniss who undeniably carries the show on his wings as protagonist Edgar. McGinniss is truly such a lovely Bat Boy, chewing up the scenery (note he does actually chomp a book at one point) and offering a rendition as phenomenal as the adorable mutant.

Rhett Guter and Amanda Kroiss’ choreography, exemplified with bat signal hand gestures and intricate formations to create wings spanning out from behind Edgar in the finale, is acute, often literal and entertaining. Brandon Wardell and Jenny Burkhart’s lighting design irradiates, from the dangling cage lamps to the hazy amber illumination suggesting a coal-mining village’s dingy dusk with sanguine red spots rimming the stage in reverence to the horror parody motif. Highlighted with the backdrop curtain bearing the image of the original Weekly World News piece that inspired the show, Jeff Kmiec and Greg Pinsoneault’s scenic design is terrifically imaginative. Furthermore, Charlotte Rivard Hoster’s music direction, loyal to the original score, replete with sarcastically spooky chords and rousing choruses done much justice by the outstanding live orchestration, is attune to the work's mock macabre. 

Further distinguishing this production is the cheeky, unabashed homages to beloved classic musicals. Edgar becomes a pseudo-Eliza Doolittle and transforms into a prim and proper young gentleman, complete with posh British accent, in “Show You a Thing or Two;” a riff on “My Fair Lady”’s “The Rain in Spain.” Further regards to Broadway are given in “Children, Children,” which encompasses a more than subtle nod to “The Lion King”’s beginning sequence in a raucous, raunchy revel of plush animalia (a certain warthog even makes a cameo to hammer home the point). However, as the nefarious Scar would urge, be prepared if you bring tykes along. Giving the “Circle of Life” an entirely new connotation, this outlandish, innuendo-laden scene where Shelley and Edgar seek carnal knowledge at the encouragement of the magical singing forest is not Rated G Disney convention; and sure to leave one internally quoting meerkat Timon, thinking to oneself “Puumba, not in front of the kids!” 

Moreover, this extravaganza’s salient messages truly set it apart. From Edgar’s scripture quotation and exploration of personal virtue (i.e. when he struggles to rectify his dietary preferences), to emphasis on uncompromised “Christian Charity” and biblical principles such as “Love your neighbor, forgive, keep your vows,” striking moral conscience and that “Bat Boy” certainly does have a soul is displayed. In addition to spotlighting the hypocrisy of the pious and so-called righteous, that you must “not deny your beast inside” and earnestly accept your most primitive, authentic self is essential wisdom imparted. As it forces all partaking in the incredible tragicomic journey to “heed the tale of a filthy freak who’s just like you,” the show leaves the audience reeling from its powerful and timely political statement regarding intolerance being what’s truly absurd; and caution about the consequence of embracing the oddities and inner demons all harbor. Ultimately, ringing out relentlessly in the initial track and its reprise at the show’s close, the mantra of “Love your Bat Boy” supplies the most stirring takeaway of the essentiality of internal concord and self forbearance. In the “Hold Me, Bat Boy” opening number, the ensemble admonishes “You are here not to laugh, but to learn.” Although ample instances of zany and chuckle-worthy farce are undeniable, it is lucid that all are instilled with the most valuable lessons of unfailing empathy, self-awareness and acceptance in the precious few hours “Bat Boy” inhabits our earth; marking what truly constitutes the core of this monster of a play and its unusual enchantment.

Absorbing, sage and hilarious, this musical, with vast finesse and warm-blooded humor, is unequivocally a spellbinding creature of the night. All considered, Griffin Theatre, this is one critic who loves your “Bat Boy;" and, thanks to your exceptional production, has learned to love their own. This is one show that O-positively cannot be missed. Be sure to catch this scarily brilliant spectacle, in flight nocturnally at The Den Theatre through July 24^th.