"A Christmas Story" Is A Spectacular Hip Shot

“A Christmas Story” has been televised for billions of viewers for over 30 years. Various bon mots from the movie have passed into the language: “You’ll shoot your eye out,” “triple dog dare you,” “major award,” “frageelay,” and “show Mommy how the little piggies eat” are just a few.

The audience knows every scene, much of the dialogue and how the story ends. Yet, the saga of the 1940s era Parker family—brainchild of radio star Jean Shepherd and based on his own life—continues to lay waste audiences with its deadpan humor, real-life foibles, uproarious scenes and the utter charm of a middle class, middle America family caught up in the Christmas season.

Can you top this? Should this cultural icon, now preserved in the Library of Congress, be, gasp, altered in any way?

They can and they did.

“They” is Joseph Robinette, whose book returns the story to Cleveland Street, Indiana (Shepherd’s home town was Hammond, Indiana) and finds psychological links between the parents and the two boys, Ralphie and Randy. Benj Pasek and Justin Paul craft songs that are a) often hysterically funny and, b) revelatory of the characters’ inner life.

Add Jill Gorrie’s nifty choreography, Don Le Master’s deft musical direction, another ingenious period set from Mathys Herbert, spot-on costumes by Janet Pitcher, and great lighting (Michelle Miles) and sound effects (Jon Fredette), all pulled together with obvious love by director Kirsten Chandler, and you have San Diego Musical Theatre’s boffo production of “A Christmas Story.”

This show deserves to return annually to the Horton Grand, it’s that good. It will be to SDMT what “The Nutcracker” is to ballet companies. The success of the show, of course, arises from the six outstanding lead players and a brace of kids—for the story, above all else, is told from a child’s perspective.

The kids, by the way, aren’t your standard issue bratty, self-involved, wise-acre movie monsters. They are triple-threat talented performers intent on delivering a great show. Audiences get it. The packed matinee audience could hardly contain its laughter and appreciation, and was on its feet before the final curtain rang down.

About those songs: “Ralphie to the Rescue” is a clever expression of Ralphie’s inner longing for the coveted Red Ryder Carbine Action 200-shot Range Model Air Rifle with the thingie that tells time so he can become the hero of his dreams. As sung by John Perry Wishchuk, a rising star if ever there was one, the boy’s unconscious humor and yearning mirror The Old Man’s (Dad).

“The Genius on Cleveland Street” and “A Major Award,” the arias given to The Old Man, express his hunger to win, to be praised for cleverness, wit, insight, foresight and general genius. The excellent Jake Millgard delivers the song, the struggles with the furnace, the daily battle with neighbor Bumpus’s revolting mutts, and interaction with the family with particular skill and finesse. He’s funny and touching at the same time—much like Ralphie.

“What a Mother Does” as sung by the gifted Heidi Meyer (a complete turnaround from her gripping performance as the harlot Dulcinea in “Man of La Mancha” earlier this season) gives us a woman with sharp insight into the foibles of her three men, always expressed with wry humor and sympathy, showing why she’s the family glue. No sentiment here. But she worries about them. Lifebuoy soap aside, she rescues, comforts, placates and is all but shattered by the argument with The Old Man over the famous lamp.

Act One culminates in the show-stopping Leg Lamp number replete with leggy chorines, each holding a leg lamp, and flanked by the kids with mini leg lamps. Mother emerges clad in a gold lamp shade to shouts of mirth. This number is not only hilarious, but delivered with panache exceeded only by a gigantic, fishnet-clad leg that descends from the flies. Needless to say, the audience erupted in laughter and applause.

“You’ll Shoot Your Eye Out” is a 1930s speakeasy song given to Ralphie’s teacher, Miss Shields, played by the virtuoso comedienne Barbara Shoenhofer. None of your smock-clad, stern, write-inside-the-margins school marm here. Miss Shields finds her inner hoofer. Clad in scarlet, flanked by the kids (now back in lamé and gilt), she brings down the house.

A word about little brother Randy. Like Ralphie, he’s almost never off stage. Abraham German captures Randy’s innocent charm, desire to save Ralphie and his eyeglasses from the bad kids, fear of Santa, inability to eat anything, and struggle with his snowsuit (one of the funniest sequences in the show), all adding up to a little kid with a big heart. One day, he’ll reflect the best of his parents—just as Ralphie contains his mother’s peacemaking gene and his dad’s innate goodness.

Everyone knows the laff-riot closing scene in the Chinese restaurant with the headless "Chinese turkey." The comedy increases with Chris Bona as the waiter (his fifth role in the show) in fine voice; Randy’s enthusiasm for chow mein (“This is really good!”); Mother’s wha-a-a-t reaction to the sight of Randy finally eating; and The Old Man saving the day. The scene is a caution.

The beating heart of the show is Steve Gunderson’s warm, adroit portrayal of, we thought, Jean Shepherd. Seated stage left in a comfortable chair, Gunderson narrates the flow of action until the final moment when he rises and lets us know he’s Ralphie looking back at a memorable Christmas when The Old Man gave him the gift he really wanted. Not a dry eye in the house.

“A Christmas Story” is live at the Horton Grand Theatre through Dec. 29, 2019. Don’t miss it.