“Kinky Boots” Has Danced into the Kennedy Center


The touring company of “Kinky Boots,” the 2012 Tony Award-winning musical with music and lyrics by onetime pop queen Cyndi Lauper and a book by Harvey (“La Cage aux Folles,” “Torch Song Trilogy”) Fierstein, has danced into the Kennedy Center Opera House on very high and very red heels. The self-evident crowd pleaser will run through July 10.

There were obvious fans in the audience, and not a few red boots — the show’s glittery trademark — and probably a few Lauper fans, all to take in the tale which seems gaudy, even edgy on the surface, but is at heart the same old story: a fight for love and glory and, in this case, also a fight for a share of the shoe market.

It’s also totally glam, and totally — and sadly, given recent events — now. It’s about a young British lad who inherits his late father’s shoe factory, being pressured by his snazzy hometown gal friend to sell the place and move to uptown London. Plus the factory, full of British working-class pub types, is in danger of going under, and if he sells, the lads and lassies of the factory will be without a job. What’s this kid to do?

Why, drop in at a somewhat different sort of pub, where Lola, a dazzling, bossy, eye-catching drag queen is putting on a grand show with her angels, wearing impossibly painful high heels. The lad, young Charlie, has an idea: this could be a niche market for a shoe factory. He puts Lola to work designing them.

This is familiar, even formula fun. Here comes Lola, all strut and dazzle, invading the environs of the shoe factory as designer in chief, and Lola (aka Simon), doesn’t set well with some of the gruffer types.

What ensues is maybe predictable, but entirely entertaining. Boy loves girl, boy loses girl, boy gets another girl who’s been there all the time, boy forges a friendship with Lola, then loses Lola and behaves badly, boy almost loses shoe factory … but guess who saves the day?

You have to wonder, though, why so many London working-class plots turn into Broadway musicals, as in “Billy Elliott” and “The Full Monty.” Maybe Liverpool is more fun than London.

Here’s the thing. This show is fun, and that’s thanks to a number of things. Lots of credit to the costume designers, led by Gregg Barnes, who presumably came up with the thigh-high red boots which have become the show’s logo, worn by everyone. Lauper’s parade of affable anthems and dance-themed songs somehow manage to bridge the gap between disco to 1980s pop and the likes of the Police and, well, Cyndi Lauper.

Among the performers, Adam Kaplan has the toughest job. Charlie, as written, is a bit clueless not only about girls, but also about the world inhabited by drag queens, plus he’s something of a whiner. What’s more, he’s given an unbearably long anthem to sing midway through the second act. Kaplan has a clean, moving voice and gets us through the rough spot.

Here to save the day — and night — is J. Harrison Ghee, who has his own anthems to sing, and he knocks them out of the ballpark and the shoe factory. Ghee is also a terrific comic actor with perfect pitch and timing, and makes a real character out of a part that has its own pitfalls. Really funny, and in a goofy way sexy, is Tiffany Engen as the girlfriend in waiting, if only he notices.

The Fierstein and Lauper show is squarely aimed at loners, misfits, the different many, the often unloved, the folks who don’t know their own gifts are worth their salt. There are no real villains here. The only question at the end is whether Charlie, Lola and the factory gang will parade on the high fashion ramp of Milan. Duh.

The show probably carries with it a little more weight than it might at other times, and more good will, too, given recent tragic events. Odd that both “La Cage” and this production should occupy Washington stages, both being shows of affirmation.

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