Theatre in Review: Elf (Marquis Theatre)

	Ashley Brown, Kayla Davion, Jennifer Sanchez, and company. Photo: Evan Zimmerman for MurphyMade

This Christmas season, the people at the Marquis Theatre are giving us the gift of professionalism. Elf is that rare thing, a clever, unpretentious, strictly-for-fun entertainment that knows exactly how to win over an audience without pandering. Despite the close resemblance to the 2003 Will Ferrell film, it has a certifiably mad sense of humor of its own. And it comes packed with shiny amusements for both kids and adults. It achieves the trifecta of holiday entertainment.

This is especially surprising because, in its 2010 debut, Elf seemed like just another routine film adaptation, a by-the-numbers exercise that got the job done if only just. But Bob Martin has smartened up the book, co-written with the late Thomas Meehan, adding some new and funny topical gags. The score by Matthew Sklar (music) and Chad Beguelin (lyrics) has been tweaked a bit, adding a new opening number, "Happy All the Time," establishing that the constant outpouring of Yuletide joy at the North Pole can be exhausting. Or as Santa notes, "When they sing until they're bluish/Santa wishes he were Jewish." There's just enough rum in this eggnog to keep it from cloying.

The production also gets a kiss of life from the director Philip Wm. McKinley, who emphasizes speed and humor plus a touch of real feeling; choreographer Liam Steel, whose work is witty and ebullient; and a delightful cast of mostly familiar faces, all of whom know when enough is enough.

Leading the way is Grey Henson, who, having earned favorable attention as a seen-it-all gay teen in Mean Girls and as one of Shucked's wisecracking narrators, emerges as a triple threat perfectly capable of carrying a musical on his green-suited shoulders. He is, of course, Buddy, a human raised as an elf, toiling as an underperformer in Santa's workshop. Learning the truth about his origins and spiraling into an identity crisis, he is dispatched to New York to find his biological father. That would be Walter Hobbs, a children's book publisher with the habits of a workaholic and an Ebenezer Scrooge attitude about Christmas, the latter of which alienates his wife, Emily, and son, Michael.

Although Santa's elves assure us that Buddy is the one "who makes us look apathetic/He's like a can of Red Bull/Only much more energetic!" Henson plays the script's fish-out-of-water comedy with an admirably light touch, whether tangling with security guards, destroying the only copy of a priceless children's classic, or brawling with a department store Santa. He gets laughs inhaling a spritz of perfume (It's called Jungle Passion fruit spray so it must be delicious, right?), serving up spaghetti with liberal doses of maple syrup, and confiding that Santa has given up using reindeer "ever since he got that nasty letter from PETA." (He is also a fine singer and surprisingly agile dancer.) Everything is done with a welcome touch of delicacy, including his romance with bitter store employee Jovie, who desperately needs some holiday cheer. Fumblingly asking her out to dinner, he notes that men are probably lined up, asking her out to every meal, adding that she must have "a different guy for breakfast every morning." What girl could resist a line like that?

The charming, smoky-voiced newcomer Kayla Davion, who plays Jovie, is part of a talented -- one might say overqualified -- supporting cast: Michael Hayden, channeling James Caan but with more heart as Walter; Ashley Brown, bringing good cheer and her impressive belt to the role of Emily; and Kai Edgar, refreshingly natural as Michael. (His scenes of pre-adolescent goofing around with Henson's Buddy are hilariously right.) Adding to the run are Kalen Allen, double-cast as a frantic, paranoid floor manager and a depressive hot dog vendor; Jennifer Sanchez as Walter's gossipy, all-knowing secretary; and Michael Deaner as an unregenerate brat who, climbing onto a store Santa's lap, demands "Zombie Apocalypse Four: Rivers of Blood" for his Christmas present. Sean Astin, who has little or no stage experience, looks right at home in the dual roles of Santa and Walter's nightmare boss. ("I haven't spent Christmas with my family in 20 years!")

One of the best things about Elf's book is that it knows where the songs are, and not every moment needs to be musicalized. "World's Greatest Dad" effectively sends Buddy on his quest, followed by "In the Way," which establishes Walter as the opposite of Buddy's dreams. "A Christmas Song" is the quiet charmer needed to seal the Buddy-Jovie romance, and the lively "The Story of Buddy the Elf" wraps up the plot like a Christmas cracker. It's a sign of the show's assurance that one of the biggest hands goes to "There is a Santa Claus," a rapid-fire comic duet for Emily and Michael after they spy Santa's sleigh sputtering over New York. Steel rolls out the well-drilled chorus in production numbers like "Happy All the Time," with the company cunningly costumed to look like pint-sized elves; "Sparklejollytwinklejingley," a near-riot at Macy's featuring oversized gift boxes, giant candy canes, and building blocks spelling out holiday sentiments; and "Nobody Cares About Santa," in which a gaggle of bitter Clauses-for-hire vent their frustrations.

Tim Goodchild's scenic design has a slightly hit-or-miss quality, with successes including Santa's toy factor, dominated by an enormous clock; the color-coordinated publisher's office; and a deep-red Chinese restaurant contrasted with an overly tinseled Macy's interior and a surprisingly under-furnished Central Park West apartment. But Goodchild also works brilliantly with lighting designer Patrick Woodroffe -- yes, that Patrick Woodroffe, of Elton John and The Rolling Stones, among many others -- on a finale featuring Santa's sleigh taking off in the middle of a snowstorm. (Goodchild's costumes are attractive and amusing throughout.) Ian William Galloway and Mesmer Studio's video projections are also uneven: Their New York cityscapes look a little too cartooned, although there's an amusing sequence taking Buddy from the North Pole through a series of changing landscapes, ending up at the entrance to the Empire State Building. The sound design by Garth Owen and Peter Fitzgerald is a model of clarity.

With its narrow holiday-time focus, Elf is unlikely to join the musical theatre canon but it supplies exactly the buoyant, unpretentious fun so often missing in our modern musicals. (It resembles the second-tier hits of the pre-Hair golden era, which didn't advance the form but certainly handed the audience a good time.) For families looking for some breezy holiday fun, it will likely leave them laughing all the way out of the Marquis.--David Barbour