Bat Boy (2001)

Sometimes, when I hear about yet another musical-based-on-a-movie or jukebox musical in the works, when I have to squint to find an original score and story in the best musical nominees at the Tony’s, I give thanks that there’s a show like Bat Boy in the world.  One could argue that it’s not strictly a 100% original tale, since it was inspired by an outlandish tabloid figure, but it’s still an excellent example of the sheer variety and inventiveness that can be found in musical theatre, despite evidence to the contrary in recent years.

The short version:  a feral creature, half-human and half-bat, is discovered in a cave near a small West Virginia town (I say “half-bat,” but really, it’s just the ears, the teeth, and the pallor that comes from living in a cave.)  When he’s brought to the home of the local veterinarian, the vet’s wife takes pity on him and insists that he stay with the family.  She gives him a name, Edgar, and teaches him speech and human culture.  Though he takes to all of it swimmingly, the townsfolk don’t take so well to him – especially when he and the vet’s daughter Shelley start to fall for each other.  There’s bigotry, forbidden love, identity crises, blood lust, and demands for the acknowledgement of half-human/half-bat dignity, all wrapped in an outrageously humorous package.

I like that the crazy premise is pretty much played entirely straight – yes, it’s a hugely funny show, but much of the humor comes from committing to the insanity of the piece.  Despite ridiculous details, like Edgar’s plummy British accent after he learns to speak from watching Masterpiece, or Shelly’s desire to be “inside” Edgar’s heart in a less-metaphorical-than-usual way, none of it is a joke to the characters.  To them, it’s all deadly serious, and sometimes, the show is as well.  Cheeky lyrics aside, Edgar’s songs convey a real sense of disenfranchisement and an anguish at not understanding who he is or how he came to be.  Most often, though, that solemnity in the face of the absurd makes everything even more comedic.  Right from the opening number, the ensemble intones the goofy “Hold Me, Bat Boy” as if it’s “The Ballad of Sweeney Todd.”

Laurence O’Keefe’s score is full of catchy, eclectic tunes, ranging from jaunty patter ditties to modern Broadway pop-rock to soaring eleven o’clock numbers.  I’m especially fond of the terrific Act I closer “Comfort and Joy,” Edgar’s melodic plea to “Let Me Walk Among You,” and the earbuggy “Children, Children.”  The score, and the show at large, plays slyly with the Broadway canon, throwing in allusions and homages throughout.  I always appreciate when shows that are really fresh and different are still clearly written with affection for musical theatre and all that came before.

Oh, and this is a musical that commemorates Fellini, Machiavelli, and the Three Stooges in a single number.  Where else are you gonna find that?

Warnings

Language, B-movie-style violence, thematic elements, and sexual content (including an implied sex scene.)