ScheckOnTheater

Contrary to what you may have heard, The Book of Mormon is not the second coming.

But it is a raucously entertaining and exhilarating musical comedy that is impossible to resist. Written by South Park creators Trey Parker and Matt Stone along with Robert Lopez of Avenue Q fame, this show wins you over with its combination of cheeky outrageousness and theatrical savvy.

Much of the credit for the latter must no doubt be accorded Casey Nicholaw (The Drowsy Chaperone), who choreographed and co-directed the show with Parker.

Parker and Stone have previously demonstrated their affinity and chops for musical comedy with their early film Cannibal! The Musical and South Park: Bigger, Longer and Uncut, the feature version of their iconic TV show. But they have outdone themselves here, creating a satirical musical about the Church of Latter Day Saints that manages to be simultaneously irreverent, scatological, and sweetly old-fashioned.

The show depicts the misadventures of a pair of Mormon missionaries, golden boy Elder Price (Andrew Rannells) and slovenly, pudgy Elder Cunningham (Josh Gad), when they are assigned to a poverty-stricken Ugandan village.

Needless to say, culture shock ensues, with the hapless pair confronted with natives beset by such issues as extreme poverty, female genital mutilation, an AIDS epidemic, widespread rape and slaughter, and a hostile warlord. No wonder that they greet each other with the phrase “Hasa Diga Eebowai,” which roughly translates to “Fuck you, God.”

Elder Price, who had dreamed of being sent to the paradise that is Orlando, Florida, is quickly overwhelmed by the conditions. But his partner is eager to take up the cause, particularly looking forward to the opportunity to personally baptize the beautiful native girl Nabulungi (Nikki M. James).

The show reveals plenty of research on the part of its creators with its plethora of jokes about Mormon history and protocol, including a wacky depiction of Joseph Smith’s encounter with the Angel Moroni and a mock Biblical pageant that must be seen to be believed.

While the sprightly score is more serviceable than memorable, it features plenty of fun production numbers that are enlivened by the riotous lyrics and energetic choreography featuring the clean-cut missionaries cutting loose with go-go style abandon.

A particular highlight is the “Mormon Hell Dream,” featuring a cast of costumed characters including Satan, Jeffrey Dahmer and Gehnghis Khan, Hitler and Jeffrey Dahmer.

As with most relentlessly comic shows of this type, not all of the jokes land. Some are repeated to the point of exhaustion, and others simply feel cheap or exploitative. But thankfully there are far more hits than misses, and musical comedy aficionados will especially appreciate the parodic references to shows ranging from The Lion King to The King and I.

There are sight gags in abundance, from the statue of the Angel Moroni atop the proscenium to the dead animal carcasses dragged across the stage. Set designer Scott Pask and costume designer Ann Roth score consistent laughs with their wildly imaginative contributions.  

The ensemble is terrific, with Gad resembling a sweeter John Belushi as the hapless Cunningham and Rannells especially winning as his mortified counterpart. James is sweetly appealing as the native girl eager to embrace the new religion, while Michael Potts brings a sardonic comic edge to his village leader.

That a show featuring a character’s repeated refrain that “I have maggots in my scrotum” could manage to be so endearing is something of a miracle in itself. There will certainly be those who find The Book of Mormon more sophomoric than funny. But judging by the gales of laughter that rocked the packed theater, there probably won’t be too many of them.

Eugene O’Neill Theatre, 230 W. 49th St. 212-239-6200. www.telecharge.com.

Harvey Fierstein has finally claimed the part he was born to play in the newly cast revival of La Cage Aux Folles. The gravel-voiced performer has now assumed the role of Albin--the flamboyant drag queen performer who goes under the stage name Zaza--in this hit revival of the groundbreaking Jerry Herman musical for which he wrote the libretto nearly three decade ago.

Co-starring opposite Christopher Sieber--the Broadway veteran (Shrek, Spamalot) who quickly stepped into the role of Albin’s partner Georges after Jeffrey Tambor abruptly left the production--Fierstein delivers a wonderfully affecting and hilarious performance of true diva proportions.

His interpretation is quite different than that of Douglas Hodge, who originally played the role in this Menier Chocolate Factory revival that opened on Broadway last season after a hit London run. Hodge brought an edgy intensity and affecting insecurity to his Albin that realistically grounded the proceedings. Fierstein, on the other hand, delivers a true star turn, mining the comically outlandish aspects of the character in vaudevillian style.

He’s endlessly entertaining, but quite moving as well, especially in his bravura rendition of “I Am What I Am,” the showstopping Act I closing number that went on to become an unofficial gay anthem.

He also displays a real chemistry with his co-star that was somewhat lacking in his predecessor’s interactions with Kelsey Grammer. Although Sieber lacks Grammer’s effortless natural urbanity, he’s sweetly appealing as the endlessly aggrieved but deeply devoted Georges, and his renditions of such gorgeous songs as “Song on the Sand” and “Look Over There” are deeply touching.

In the other significant cast change, Wilson Jermaine Heredia (of the original cast of Rent) provides just the right amount of outrageousness to his gleefully over-the-top turn as the sassy “maid,” Jacob.

Longacre Theatre, 220 W. 48 th St. 212-239-6200. www.telecharge.com.

How to Succeed in Business Without Really Trying? It’s easy. Simply cast Daniel Radcliffe in the lead of a popular vintage Broadway musical, and sit back and watch his multitude of young Harry Potter fans throw money at the box-office.

Fortunately, the people responsible for the 50th anniversary revival of this classic show with its indelible score by Frank Loesser have tried. While this production directed and choreographed by Rob Ashford rarely hits the musical comedy heights that it should, it’s a solidly entertaining rendition that should well please audiences.

The immediate question, of course, is whether Radcliffe is up to the demands of his leading musical comedy role. The answer is a qualified yes. The young actor has clearly worked hard, very hard, and while his singing is merely pleasant at best, he displays a very likeable and charming stage presence as J. Pierrepont Finch, the relentlessly ambitious schemer working his way up the corporate ladder. He lacks the inspired comic impishness of such predecessors as Robert Morse and Matthew Broderick—his too earnest delivery of the classic self-love number “I Believe in You” falls flat, for instance—but his youthful eagerness serves him well here. He speaks and sings with a flawless American accent, and his athletic dancing reveals plenty of hours spent in the rehearsal room.

Ashford’s staging, very reminiscent of his work in the recent revival of that other corporate-themed, 60’s set musical, Promises, Promises, is suitably fast-paced and energetic. But it only truly soars with the fabulous choreography in the 11 o’clock number “Brotherhood of Man,” which stops the show.

The production’s other valuable asset is John Larroquette, terrific as the clueless company head J.B. Biggley. His comic interactions with Radcliffe are frequently inspired, particularly in their duet on the elaborate production number “Grand Old Ivy.”

Other than Rob Bartlett, who scores big laughs in his dual roles as the veteran mailroom head and CEO Wally Womper, and Ellen Harvey, drolly funny as Biggley’s savvy secretary, the supporting players are merely adequate. Rose Hemingway is appealing but fairly bland as the ingénue, Rosemary; Tammy Blanchard hits only predictable notes as the tarty Hedy La Rue; and Christopher J. Hanke fails to exploit the rich comic potential of his role as Finch’s rival, Bud Frump.

But the show itself, with its hilariously funny book by Abe Burrows, Jack Weinstock and Willie Gilbert, still holds up marvelously well, and is if anything even more relevant in today’s cutthroat corporate world. And, in a cannily hip gesture, the voice of the narrator is provided by current journalism glamour boy, Anderson Cooper.

Al Hirschfeld Theatre, 301 W. 45th St. 212-239-6200. www.telecharge.com. 

At the rate the Transport Group is going, there won’t be any loft spaces left in Manhattan. The enterprising theater company, who staged a well-received revival of The Boys in the Band last season in a Chelsea loft apartment, repeats the gimmick with their current revival of Michael John LaChiusa’s musical Hello Again, first presented in 1994 at Lincoln Center.

The gimmick is less successful this time. While Matt Crowley’s gay-themed comedy benefited from the verisimilitude and intimacy of the surroundings, this show based on Arthur Schnitzler’s 1900 play La Ronde seems merely lost in this cavernous Soho space.

Those familiar with the original work, not to mention its infinite adaptations, will recall that it depicts a daisy chain of erotic encounters among a series of sketchily drawn figures. La Chiusa’s time-hopping version is set in different decades of the twentieth century, featuring couplings—both of the homo and hetero variety--between such characters as a Senator (Alan Campbell), a Young Thing (Blake Daniel), a Writer (Jonathan Hammond), an Actress (Rachel Bay Jones), a Whore (Nikka Graff Lanzarone), a College Boy (Robert Lenzi), a Young Wife (Alexandra Silber), a Nurse (Elizabeth Stanley), a Husband (Bob Stillman) and a Soldier (Max von Essen).

That these sexual encounters are largely joyless and fraught with tension comes as no surprise. What is surprising is that the same lingering negative aftereffects are experienced by the audience members of this voyeuristic production directed by Jack Cummings III, which brings the action uncomfortably close to the spectators who are seated at supper club-style tables surrounding a large bed.

The performers perform their sexually charged duets at various locales throughout the large space, sometimes climbing on top of tables and writhing their often partially clad, inevitably toned bodies right in our faces. The results are mainly discomfiting, although if you’re looking for a close-up view of nude male buttocks pumping away—the men are more frequently unclothed than the women—then this is the show for you.

The talented ensemble--while not exactly comparable to the original ensemble which included such rising stars as Donna Murphy, John Cameron Mitchell, Michele Pawk, Carolee Carmelo and Malcom Gets, among others—do fine by the material. And LaChiusa’s varied score, ably performed by a six-piece band tucked away in one corner of the room, still has its pleasures, although it offers no truly memorable songs.

But the show, much like the frenetic but joyless sexual liaisons it depicts, feels ultimately hollow. With Schnitzler’s ingenious concept having been made overly familiar by repetition, it may be time for theater artists to resist any further impulses to update this work.

Transport Group, 52 Mercer St. 212-564-0333. www.transportgroup.org.

Middle age has done little to dim the energy of John Leguizamo, who begins his latest solo show Ghetto Klown by frenziedly dancing to James Brown’s “Sex Machine.” This entertaining autobiographical piece by the actor/writer--following in the heels of such acclaimed works as Mambo Mouth, Spic-O-Rama, Freak and Sexaholix…a Love Story—is bound to appeal to his fans, even if its slight content reveals that he’s mined his life story perhaps once too often.

Unlike the familial and social themes explored in his previous pieces, this effort concentrates on the details of Leguizamo’s show business career. It resembles a live version of the sort of freewheeling, dishy autobiographies that movie stars inevitably produce at one point.

While the star claims it to be both a “cautionary tale” and an exercise in “free therapy,” the evening hardly proves revelatory, unless you count descriptions of being manhandled by Steven Seagal or getting stoned with Kurt Russell as being particularly scandalous.

Performing on a tenement-styled set complete with fire escape that could serve for a scaled-down revival of West Side Story, the performer begins his tale with a recounting of his family’s immigrating from Columbia and his subsequent upbringing in Queens, NYC. He even accompanies his description of his teen years with projections of embarrassing photos from his high school yearbook.

But he mainly talks about his acting career, from his early days performing at such Off-Off Broadway venues as P.S. 122 to his acclaimed solo shows on Broadway to his roles in such films as Carlito’s Way, William Shakespeare’s Romeo + Juliet and To Wong Foo, Thanks for Everything, Julie Newmar.

Both freely self-reflective and self-effacing, he describes such less felicitous episodes such as his father’s displeasure in the way in which he is depicted by his son on stage and subsequent threats of legal action; his early typecasting as criminals and drug dealers in such television shows as Miami Vice; and his ill-fated foray into variety television with the short-lived House of Buggin’.

 Leguizamo brings much energy to the proceedings, which is filled with funny one-liners and hilarious impressions of such co-stars as Al Pacino. But the overlong evening begins to wear thin over the course of its two-and-a-half hours. When he goes on at length about his arduous pursuit of the woman he would later marry and then proudly displays pictures of their adorable babies, it’s like running into an old classmate at a high school reunion from whom you can’t wait to tear yourself away.

Lyceum Theatre, 149 W. 45th St. 212-239-6200. www.telecharge.com.