"All Shook Up" shakes things up

A standard American theatrical trope is the arrival of an alluring male maverick into a tightly wound, 1950s era small town, whose repressed inhabitants, especially the women, are itching to cut loose and find love—actually, sex, which is the core of “All Shook Up.” Think Picnic, The Wild One, Splendor in the Grass, Bus Stop, others.

Our maverick, Chad (Jesse Bradley in a killer turn), a single syllable, no surname, arrives on, what else, a motorcycle and proceeds to tear apart the town. Chad is Elvis and the 2004 show by Joe DiPietro is based on two dozen songs rendered immortal by the pelvicly gifted Presley, whose 1950s TV shows transformed America into the land of screaming fans, fainting girls, gigantic profits in popular music and massive touring shows performed in arenas and stadiums.

“All Shook Up” captures this social upheaval and Presley's vocal and songwriting gifts, but manages to make everything charming, normal, extremely funny and somehow quaint.

The deus ex machina is the motorcycle, which needs repair and keeps Chad in town for a week. Enter Natalie, the cute mechanic who knows from brakes and transmissions (Krista Feallock, delightful). Of course, she falls for Chad even as her long-time school pal, Dennis (the nimble Noah Filley), secretly pines for her.

Oh, and Natalie’s widower dad, Jim (the amusing Richard Van Slyke), yearns to find his true love as does Sylvia, the local honky tonk hostess (Erin Vanderhyde, the beating heart of the show) and her daughter Lorraine (Brooke Henderson, touching). These three, and Natalie, evoke Shakespeare’s Twelfth Night and its gender confusion wherein she’s disguised as a he, prompting a crush in an upper class museum director (Sami Nye, gorgeous comedienne) and Chad’s concern that he’s suddenly gay. You just have to believe.

On a grimmer note, Sylvia and Lorraine are mother-and-daughter interracial dating and marriage candidates who give new meaning to “Can’t Help Falling in Love” and “There’s Always Me.”

Lorraine's adored is a white, mother-henned young man (the appealing Brendan Dallaire), who learns that he’s actually black due to mom’s one-night stand years earlier. Mom (the hilarious Barbara Schoenhofer) is the town mayor determined to keep sex at bay and the town squeaky clean.

The show features San Diego Musical Theatre’s strengths: Clever sets; pitch perfect costumes; deft use of a small stage; a leggy, beguiling, 10-member ensemble; excellent choreography; a great band; skillful sound and lighting design; and, most of all, joy in performing from the entire cast. They may be looking for love in the story, but they want yours and they get it.

Caveat: They sing and dance their hearts out, but dialogue scenes need sharpening so that the players pick up their cues. The exception is Schoenhofer whose verbal dexterity and adept physical presence commands the space.

“All Shook Up” runs through Sept. 1 at the Horton Grand Theatre. Buy a ticket(s) ASAP and shake up the end of summer. You’ll be glad you did.