The Off-Broadway Theatre Review: Bat Boy: The Musical

By Ross

The night was Halloween, and the theatre was primed for chaos. And as the storm rolled in across the stage at New York City Center, the air crackled with the effervescent anticipation of camp and crisp, smart catastrophe. I had never seen Bat Boy before this revival, but from the moment that first thunderclap split the air, the stage exploded with a rock and roll sound that made my heart race. This wasn’t going to be a quiet descent into darkness. It was going to be a wild, rebellious riot of sound, movement, and fearless satire bursting right out of the cave and into our laps.

Before the elusive Bat Boy had even stepped into the light, the ensemble was churning and filling the night air with a belting “Free me, Bat Boy” at full-throated ferocity. Their voices clawed and soared, summoning this half-human, half-creature legend into magnificent existence. Only then did we glimpse him at last, climbing and cowering deep in a cave like an acrobat who longed for isolation, and surrounded by suspicion, fear, and a community desperate to either cage him or set him free, we were hooked, our collective heart given to the magnet wonder that is Taylor Trensch (Broadway’s Floyd Collins) and his Bat Boy named Edgar.

The production is a wonderfully hilarious knockout in its vision and execution; a bona fide blast of energy and imagination thanks to Alex Timbers (Broadway’s Moulin Rouge!) and his masterful direction. He’s matched beat for beat by a design team that understands exactly what is required to pull this tight-wired act off with substance and wit. Scenic designer David Korins (Broadway’s Ragtime) and costume designer Jennifer Moeller (Broadway’s McNeal) conjure an aesthetic that nods to NYCC’s Encores! tradition but delivers so much more. The lighting design by Justin Townsend (Broadway’s Death Becomes Her) captures the flip between bloody red horror and heart with inventive precision, and Connor Gallagher (Off-Broadway’s The Big Gay Jamboree) supplies the manic choreography of a world constantly spinning out of control. It’s the kind of artistic alchemy that lets Bat Boy’s wildness feel earned and electric. And with Keythe Farley and Brian Flemming’s book and story, Laurence O’Keefe’s music and lyrics, and Andrew Resnick’s nimble music direction pulsing at the heart of it, this revival lands as both rip-roaringly funny and deeply felt.

Every performer on that stage finds the razor’s edge balance between absurd and adorable, ridiculous and rambunctious. Kerry Butler (Broadway’s Beetlejuice) is pure vocal and performance perfection as Meredith Parker, the compassionate but conflicted mother, matched note for note by the outstanding Gabi Carrubba (Broadway’s Just In Time) as daughter Shelley. When they join rebellious forces in the astonishing “Three Bedroom House,” claiming their own two or three-bedroom vision of freedom, the audience roars its overwhelming approval for longer than I think those two actors expected. Their energy and talent are unstoppable, and we couldn’t get enough of those two.

And then came the fireflies. Or rather, Alex Newell (Broadway’s Shucked), shimmying into Act Two as The God Pan with the delicious “Children, Children,” delivering a performance so explosive it felt like the roof might lift off the theatre. Newell doesn’t just sing. They deliver and detonate the space like dynamite. In a single number, the whole production ascends into theatrical transcendence.

But let’s not forget the others, because without such magnetic souls as Marissa Jaret Winokur (Broadway’s Hairspray) treating us on Halloween to the most wickedly funny revelation as Mrs. Taylor, playing vengeance with a perfect comic pitch, the show wouldn’t feel as complete and divine as it is. And sneaking in to give us our wonderfully dumb villain is Andrew Durand (Audible’s Dead Outlaw), swinging high with wild shotgun glee as Rick Taylor, unearthing every ounce of his character’s redneck rage and brutal ridiculousness. But the heart of this beast, as it must be, belongs to Trensch, whose turn as Bat Boy Edgar is both nuanced and powerfully magnificent, equal parts bloodthirsty, heartbreaking, empathetic, and beautifully human. When he begs the townsfolk for a handshake in “Let Me Walk Among You,” the theatre holds its breath, as we are right there with him, anxious and hopeful.

Christopher Sieber (Broadway’s The Prom) and his ever-present syringe bring darkly comedic brilliance as the devious Dr. Parker, wrestling with animal instincts both literal and metaphorical. Whether pleading for affection or dancing to the infectious rhythm of “Fly With Me,” Sieber sends a sharp shot of the deliciously diabolical on point and to the death.

The show never lets up. Its score is alive with the sharpest jab of cleverness and full-bodied camp, yet under every prick lies a sincere core of social wisdom. The symbolic layering is exceedingly smart, yet never preachy. The songs prompt laughter and big smiles of glee, but the message sinks in anyway. This smart musical jabs at the hypocrisy of tolerance and the irony of Christian charity with the precision of a pitchfork stolen from the prop department of a “Frankenstein” film. Under all the fury and sharp fangs is a deeply relevant story about fear, difference, isolation, and the enduring hope for acceptance. It’s a cathartic howl into the dark. A love letter to strangeness. And in the hands of this remarkable company at NYCC, Bat Boy: The Musical sings loud and true. Wanting to belong has never been this entertaining — or this gloriously weird.