Theatre in Review: Bring It On: The Musical (St. James Theatre)

No, it is not the George Bush story. In point of fact, Bring It On is a bright and breezy entertainment, staged with plenty of pizazz and featuring a cast of personable young people who, in addition to possessing awe-inspiring acrobatic skills, know a thing or two about charming an audience. If there was such a thing as a Broadway futures market, you could put money on them.

The focus of this musical pep rally is the world of competitive cheerleading, here depicted as a series of high-stakes, high-pressure throwdowns that drive participants to desperate ends. Jeff Whitty's book, ostensibly based on the film of the same name but really a kind of post-pubescent All About Eve, focuses on Campbell, newly christened head of the cheer squad at Truman High. As one the lyrics notes, "Those Truman girls/are superhuman girls," and, watching them and their male cohort get flung through the air and build high-rise human pyramids, it's hard to dispute. Furthermore, Campbell and her girlfriends -- all with names like Skylar and Kylar -- are willowy and almost exclusively blonde; they're a legion of Elle Woodses, ready to take high school by storm. Of course, you might say their values are slightly warped. "Being a cheerleader is like being a Marine. You sign your life away," notes Campbell, and she's not kidding.

Then disaster strikes. Through an extremely shifty bit of urban redistricting, Campbell is shunted off to Jackson High. Here the girls are named Nautica and La Cienega, and "What's up, 'ho?" is a common greeting. A member of a minority for the first time in her life, Campbell struggles to fit in. When she discovers who is behind the plot that got her exiled from Truman -- watch out for Eva, her number-one "fan" -- she dupes the members of Jackson's dance crew -- they dance for joy, not trophies -- into forming a cheer squad, going head to head against her former teammates.

There is, of course, a moral reckoning in Campbell's future, and Bring It On amuses and touches as it guides her toward the revelation that winning isn't everything. By then, she has assembled a squad that is a rainbow coalition of races and body types, their eccentric moves bringing down the house even if they violate the rules of competition. And she has nabbed a boyfriend and a new best friend in the process.

If you're starting to get that ABC Family feeling, don't. Whitty's book is surprisingly tart and loaded with zingers, and the songs, by Amanda Green, Tom Kitt, and Lin-Manuel Miranda, blend pop and hip-hop styles into a buzzy and persuasive musical vocabulary. Once again, as in In the Heights, Miranda effectively exploits the use of rap in musical theatre; the torrent of words is so impressive that you don't mind the false rhymes that come with this style of songwriting. Among the standouts are "What I Was Born to Do," Campbell's cheerleading manifesto; a sassy ode to self-esteem titled "It Ain't No Thing;" and an upbeat ballad, "Enjoy the Ride."

Andy Blankenbuehler's choreography crossbreeds low-down dance moves with high-flying cheer stunts, resulting in a show that is almost constantly in motion. His handling of the youthful cast -- nearly all of them making their Broadway debuts -- is remarkably assured. Possibly because Bring It On has been on the road for several months, everyone has relaxed into their roles, confident that the laughs and applause buttons are firmly in place. Taylor Louderman effectively charts Campbell's progress from ruthless cheer commando to one of the gang, and she is well-matched against Adrienne Warren as Danielle, the skeptical queen bee of Jackson's dance crew. (Warren, sadly, is saddled with the score's weakest number, "We Ain't No Cheerleaders," which could stand an infusion of energy and melody.) Jason Gotay is disarming as Randall, the jam-band-loving musician who, to Campbell's surprise, turns out to be boyfriend material. Elle McLemore is alarmingly convincing as Eva, who has plans to take over Campbell's life (and, quite possibly, the world). In the show's biggest departure from reality, one of Jackson's coolest kids is the cross-dressing La Cienega, but in any case, Gregory Haney sashays through the role with brio. Ryann Redmond gets plenty of laughs as the chubby outcast -- she worries that she will have "my own special episode of Hoarders by the time I'm 21" -- who, to her delight, is seen by at least one member of the student body as a "sex goddess."

The designer David Korins has taken a hit from some reviewers for apparently cutting corners, scenery-wise. In fact, the abundance of cheerleading stunts all but demanded an open-stage approach-- you don't want those nice young people flying into walls or scenic pieces -- and, working with Jeff Sugg, the video designer, and Jason Lyons, the lighting designer, Korins has come up with a workable approach featuring four in-motion projection screens and walls of lighting units. Sugg's projections are consistently amusing and Lyons' lighting paces the action with cascades of color and plenty of kinetic effects. (The entire proscenium is covered with LED units, masked by scrim. Lyons uses this part of the rig for some especially galvanic cues.) Brian Ronan's best-in-class sound design situates the performers' voices securely on top of the heavily electronic orchestrations of Alex Lacamoire and Tom Kitt

What makes Bring It On such a pleasure is that it combines a thoroughly contemporary look and sound with a classically structured book-musical format. Because of this, and thanks to the considerable smarts of everyone involved, this is a musical that adolescents are likely to enjoy -- and if you have to take them, you'll have a pretty fine time yourself.--David Barbour