'All Shook Up' shakes expectations, societal roles

When described, "All Shook Up" sounds like something "Saturday Night Live" might make up: a musical based on Shakespeare's "Twelfth Night," set in the mid-'50s with all the characters singing Elvis songs.

But it's no faux show; this is the real deal.

And it skewers all expectations.

I was initially fearful I'd be subjected to a couple hours of non-stop Elvis worship. (He was great pre-Army, but later, grew into a parody of himself. Then there's that matter of stealing liberally from other artists, particularly African- American singers who didn't have access to as broad an audience.)

There is an Elvis figure in this musical — a lip curling, pelvis-swiveling ladies' man, who roams from town to town — but he's named Chad (or sometimes, ironically, Roustabout.) Yes, he has a guitar that he wears more than he plays, and he makes all the women swoon. Jonathan Grunert plays him with perfect over-thetop broadness, with the proper amount of self-mockery. He's like a superhero with an oversized ego.

He also rides a motorcycle, a la Marlon Brando in "The Wild One." But the motorcycle needs repair, and so he finds himself in a small nameless town. Or, as the playbill puts it, "in a square little town in the middle of a square little state in the middle of a square little decade."

COURTESY PHOTO Jonathan Grunert (Standing center) and the cast of All Shook Up Among all the women who fall for him is motorcycle mechanic Natalie (a versatile April Monte), the gas station manager's daughter. However, someone else is secretly in love with Natalie — Dennis (an endearingly gawky Ben Martin). And Chad falls for the statuesque Miss Sandra (a perfectly frosty and aloof Hannah Zold), who works at the local museum.

Natalie transforms herself into Ed, just so she can hang out with Chad and be his sidekick.

There are other subplots in this story: Mayor Matilda (an hysterically self-rightteous Regina Harbour) has passed the Mamie Eisenhower Decency Act, which means that there can't be any public demonstrations of affection. Restaurant owner Sylvia (a sassy Chelsea Waller) falls in love with Jim (a nebbish Andy Kopec), who's also infatuated with Miss Sandra. And Sylvia's daughter (Courtney Washington) falls in love with a white boy (Daniel Scullin).

COURTESY PHOTO Jonathan Grunert (Standing) as Chad in All Shook Up Ms. Washington is so enthusiastic you think she's going to burst out of her clothes, while Ms. Waller provides hand-on-the-hip attitude. Both have fabulous voices.

Despite the hijinks and frivolity, this is not your typical fluff jukebox musical. Playwright Joe DiPietro (best known for "I Love You, You're Perfect, Now Change") cleverly deals with racism and homophobia in this '50s version of "Twelfth Night." The rousing opening number, "Jailhouse Rock," with its homoerotic lyrics, should be a good foreshadowing of where this musical is going.

While some guys in Elvis wigs and black leather jackets dance with halo-ed angels in "(You're the) Devil in Disguise," there really aren't any Elvis impersonators in this show. The singers approach the songs the way a Broadway performer would, not the way Elvis sang them.

That might be jarring to some people, but this approach helps you hear the tunes in a new light.

"All Shook Up" contains 23 Elvis songs which seems a couple songs too many. Some could've been cut to tighten the show.

The set design, by Evan F. Adamson, is especially creative. It includes a shoe store whose walls are made of shoe boxes, not bricks, and a gas station with walls were created with license plates.

Mr. Adamson's created a whimsical, fun world that draws you right into the spirit of the musical. His opening set, a stark black-and-white jailhouse, is a great contrast to the colorful world that follows after. And the audience oohed at the glittering lights of the fair.

Director Marc Robin has done a great job with this production. It's fun, overthe top and campy. These actors aren't taking it seriously, and you shouldn't either. It's tongue-in-cheek, like a Tom Jones concert, where he lets the audience know that he gets the joke too.

The only quibble I have is with the dancing, which isn't bad. They get the steps, but they don't get the spirit. If I were choreographer Buddy Reeder, I'd have the dancers watch a steady diet of '50s movies with the their proverbial sock hops and beach dance scenes.

But "All Shook Up," while not deep and ponderous, is thoroughly entertaining, smart and fun.

If you go

>>What: "All Shook Up" >>When: Through April 11 >>Where: The Broadway Palm Dinner Theatre,

1380 Colonial Blvd. Fort Myers >>Cost: $25 to $53 >>Info: Call 278-4422 or go to

www.broadwaypalm.com