Jerry Lewis is an unusual muse for a holiday show, but "Cinderfella," the latest production from Ballet of the Dolls, winningly draws on the comedian's 1960 film of the same name. Choreographer Myron Johnson adds his own irreverent perspective to the mix, and the result is a warm and witty pop culture mash-up about dreams come true.
Like the film, Johnson's version takes place in a Beverly Hills mansion where Fella (Grant Whittaker) must cater to the demands of his imperious stepmother (Michael deLeon) as well as her spoiled playboy sons Rupert (Robert Skafte) and Maximillian (Bryan Gerber). In the few free moments when he's not pouring cocktails, managing wardrobes or enduring sarcastic taunts, Fella enjoys his Technicolor fantasies of a happier life embodied by a chorus of five dancers who work their moves like Supremes-style singers or Vegas showgirls.
Whittaker's Fella adopts the Lewis style (complete with messy bowl haircut and goofy grin) but he has a gentler disposition, proven by his kindness toward a hungry old man (Johnson) who shuffles into the house one day. This unlikely figure is Fella's Godfather, and his magic transforms the browbeaten kid into the sort of finger-snapping, fast-stepping hipster attractive to boho Princess Charmine (Heather Brockman), who spends more time in catsuits than the average fairy tale nobility.
Whittaker deserves credit not only for conjuring an appealing lead character but also for making the most of his costume design budget. Half the fun is seeing what outfits the performers will wear next (even bedazzled Christmas sweaters make an appearance). And Johnson's set cannily references a scene in the "Cinderfella" film when Lewis makes his big ballroom entrance by dancing down a dramatic flight of stairs.
The evening is filled with delightful performances. When Fella's Godfather summons "mice" to stitch our hero's swanky new duds, the chorus scurries in with furry masks and twitchy tics. The bespectacled Brockman slinks about the dance floor like a leggy panther on the prowl. Gerber, Skafte and DeLeon embrace their villainous roles with appropriate sneer. And Johnson is playful yet mysterious, hiding behind his long gray wig. Still, the spring in his step serves as the kinetic equivalent of a twinkle in his eye.
