Theater review: Happy Days: A New Musical

by Ed Townley of John Garcia's The Column

Happy Days: A New Musical may have arrived too late to achieve significant Broadway success. Nostalgia for the 1950s has already produced Grease, Hairspray, and Jersey Boys, as well as many less successful efforts. We've been to that particular well often enough, and Happy Days has nothing really new to offer. But the delightful surprise awaiting Dallas audiences is that the touring production of Happy Days that opened Tuesday night as part of the Dallas Summer Musicals season at the Music Hall at Fair Park is a terrific evening of musical theater, unfolding with great style and energy.

Much of the creative talent behind the original TV sitcom (which ran from 1974 to 1984) is also involved in this musical adaptation, first produced at the Falcon Theatre in Burbank, CA, and later at the Goodspeed Opera House in Connecticut and Paper Mill Playhouse in New Jersey. Sure, the book by series creator Garry Marshall feels like a cut-and-paste of several episodes, randomly chosen and haphazardly slapped together. ("I can usually solve these things in thirty minutes," Richie Cunningham says apologetically at one point, "but this is a little more complicated.") And the music and lyrics by Paul Williams – whose songs like "Rainy Days and Mondays," We've Only Just Begun," "You and Me Against the World" and "Just an Old-Fashioned Love Song" would be essential to any soundtrack of the 1970s – are entertaining and appropriate but not particularly memorable.

So what is it about Happy Days that sent me out of the theater into a rainy night smiling, chuckling and very glad to have spent the evening with a sitcom that I almost never watched in its TV heyday? Three things, really: a wisely chosen and consistently maintained attitude toward the material, the impeccable professionalism of design and direction, and the warm, talented and energetic commitment of every performer on stage. The result is that what could easily have been a sad and tacky exercise in ersatz nostalgia is, instead, a sparkling stage experience in its own right.

First, the attitude. Happy Days: A New Musical doesn't approach its source material with the solemnity of a dedicated Trekkie up in arms over a change in starship décor. It realizes that Happy Days was a popular sitcom, not a defining moment in contemporary culture. On the other hand, the production wisely avoids the kind of ironic, self-referential detachment that lets the audience know that the creators and performers know that the whole thing is kind of a crock. That can work (see Urinetown), but only in small doses. And in this case, it would do a disservice to characters – the wholesome Cunningham family, the harmlessly rebellious Fonzie – who have earned a place in our collective consciousness. Garry Marshall and director Gordon Greenberg instead play it straight, with a twist – just enough of a wry perspective to cut the sweetness without dismissing it completely. It doesn't always work – some of the distancing jokes about cheap gas and nerds wasting their time on something called `computers' fall flat. But by and large the production finds a delicate balance and maintains it skillfully.

Which brings us to point two. It has simply been a long time since I've seen any musical executed with such imagination, skill and style in every area. The scenery by Walt Spangler sets the tone simply but creatively. A little larger and brighter than life, it moves us smoothly from one familiar location to another, and succeeds in making the problematic Music Hall stage feel warm and comfortable. It's augmented by the outstanding lighting design of Jeff Croiter and witty period costumes by David C. Woolard. And I especially want to acknowledge the impeccable production stage management of William Alan Coats, and all those responsible for the technical production. Light, sound and set cues flow together seamlessly – which is, to put it mildly, not always the case with national tours, especially in the Music Hall. Note, for one example, the almost throw-away scene in which The Fonz is hitchhiking at night (don't ask). Dozens of sound and light cues in a very short space of time create a believable and powerful effect that isn't even really necessary, but adds to the energy of the scene. Very nice, and very well executed.

Even better is the delightful choreography of Michele Lynch. You might think there's nothing new to be done with hormonal teens dancing to 50's-style rock music. You would be wrong. The choreography is constantly surprising – taking chances, having fun and even impudently referencing West Side Story, Music Man and other choreographic milestones of the period.

That same degree of skill and commitment expresses through every actor in the large and talented company. No one seems to be doing it for the paycheck. From the Cunningham kitchen to Arnold's Malt Shop to Fonzie's garage – and through skillfully staged shifts from one scene to another – the company energy and apparent pleasure in what they're doing carry us happily along. Joey Sorge as Arthur "The Fonz" Fonzarelli references the role's creator, Henry Winkler, but goes his own way; there never really was any real danger in Fonzie's rebellious attitude, and now he's even more of a charming poseur. Steven Booth is a strong and amiable Richie, and Sandra DeNise is a gifted comic as Fonzie's lost love, Pinkie Tuscaredo (although her accent is as far removed from Milwaukee as you can get and still be on the American continent). Matt Walker and Matt Merchant, as professional wrestling brothers just released from prison (or something – please don't make me explain it all) seem to be channeling the would-be abductors from The Fantastiks – they are the hammiest and most harmless villains imaginable. Of the others in the large cast, all are talented and enthusiastic -- and two in particular light up the stage every time they appear. Cynthia Ferrer is funny, touching, believable and outrageous all at once as Richie's mom, Marion. There's more than a glint of madness in her sweetness, suggesting a dangerous power waiting to be released. And, as it turns out, Richie's mom is a mean little tap dancer. And Chris Fore, as Chachi, seems to be everywhere, like an eager puppy – singing, dancing, falling all over himself in his charming but clueless crush on Richie's sister Joanie.

The plot? You want to know about the plot? No, you don't. Oh, alright! Arnold's iconic Malt Shop may be forced to close unless some vague amount of money can be raised. Somehow a dance contest is going to accomplish that. Also a wrestling match between The Fonz and the bad-guy Malachi brothers. Also Pinkie Tuscadero, the well-known motorcycle stunt rider – no, really, I can't go on. It's enough (barely) to get us from number to number, with a few "in jokes" about jumping sharks and Richie's mysterious older brother Chuck to keep die-hard fans of the sitcom happy. And at the end of two acts, it isn't so much resolved as just kind of abandoned.

What really mattered to me last night was that for two-plus hours I was happily in the hands of very talented professionals – onstage, backstage and in the booth – eager to dazzle and entertain me. That's a rare and welcome opportunity these days. They weren't working from some lowest acceptable level of energy; they went all out. Sure, the material they were working with may not have the heft of an enduring classic. It's still a hell of a fun way to spend an evening.