To paraphrase Funkadelic, free your mind and your feet will follow.
"Footloose," the musical about high schoolers rising against the strictures of a small Southern town, opened Friday in an engaging revival at Chanhassen Dinner Theatres. Director Michael Brindisi's production boasts delightful musical numbers punctuated by moments of well-staged, affecting drama.
Even as it warmed the heart, "Footloose" quickened the feet of at least one theatergoer who wanted to cut a step before launching into the cold February night. If the show also resonates mood-wise, it's because we can relate to characters who are thawing out from a time of constriction and fear. COVID-19 has taught us how to appreciate simple pleasures.
Adapted by Dean Pitchford and Walter Bobbie from Pitchford's 1984 screenplay, the narrative tends a little toward the cornball, with characters and situations sketched broadly and a Prohibition-style story that would seem to stretch credulity.
Powerful Rev. Shaw Moore (Michael Gruber) has turned Bomont into a Taliban town that bans dancing and, it seems, fun. His absolutism, which also covers his family and against which daughter Ariel (Maya Richardson) rebels, springs not from pious readings of the Bible but from a wounding tragedy. Two decades ago, four youngsters drove off a bridge after partying. They died.
But new kid Ren McCormack (Alan Bach), arriving from Chicago with his divorced mom Ethel (Ann Michels), wants to change the Bomont status quo. Ren represents big-city freedom to peers such as slow cowboy Willard Hewitt (terrific Matthew Hall), Ariel's fast-talking best friend Rusty (Shinah Hey, mining bits of comic gold) and bookish smarty- pants Wendy Jo (standout Maureen Sherman-Mendez). Ren leads them to City Hall to try to lift the dancing ban.
Bach, who has been in "The Music Man" and three other shows at Chanhassen, embodies the role made famous onscreen by Kevin Bacon both physically and psychically. His Ren is sturdy and athletic, somersaulting off a prop and leaping from the floor in impressive displays of fitness. Bach also delivers in a beautiful tenor as he tries to convince the town that "Dancing Is Not a Crime."
Importantly, he has good chemistry with Richardson, whose Ariel is a rebellious preacher's kid. They find moving levels in their duet of "Almost Paradise," evoking a pitched emotionality. For her part, Richardson is a discovery — a young dynamo who holds her own as a gifted singer, dancer and actor on the big stage at Chanhassen with aplomb.