Rules for success from ‘Life Could Be a Dream’

Derek Keeling is nervous. His girlfriend, actress Brandi Burkhardt, will be in the audience for tonight’s performance of “Life Could Be a Dream,” Roger Bean’s long-running doo-wop musical. He wouldn’t let her come to his opening night — but that was months ago. This is the 157th performance of “Dream.”

With their four-part harmonies, sharp choreography and prescription strength nostalgia, “Dream” and its sister show, “The Marvelous Wonderettes,” make for a genuine L.A. theater phenomenon: a home-grown hit franchise, created in a 99-seat space with Equity actors, at a time when most theaters are just trying to keep their doors open.

Extended again at the Hudson Theatre through May 23, “Dream” has also been announced as part of Laguna Playhouse’s upcoming season, opening July 10; if the Hollywood venue continues to sell, there will be two productions running simultaneously. All this after the show won LA Weekly’s musical of the year, Backstage Garland’s production of the year, and swept the LA Drama Critics Circle Awards for production, ensemble, lighting and musical direction.

Still, Keeling, who plays Skip, a grease monkey from the wrong side of town, is interested in only one particular critic as the stage manager calls places. The house darkens, and the lights come up on a campy 1950s basement where goof-off Denny (Jeff Leatherwood) and geek Eugene (Michael J. Willett) listen to a radio announcement about a talent contest. The two break into “Sh-Boom (Life Could Be a Dream)” less than 60 seconds into the show. It’s sweet and incredibly precise, a little like the rules Bean and his producers, David Elzer and Peter Schneider, have followed to extend their doo-wop brand.

Story matters — in the music, that Is

Most jukebox musicals celebrate a particular group or songwriters (“Jersey Boys,” “Smokey Joe’s Café,” “Dinah Was”), but “Dream’s” playlist samples an era’s overall style: “I Only Have Eyes for You,” “Earth Angel,” “The Great Pretender,” “Who Put the Bomp?,” “Tears on My Pillow.” Bean calls these ‘50s hits “little one-acts in themselves. They tell a story. Current pop music is more about production or sampling. That can be enjoyable, but it’s not the same.” Bean’s approach is to take all these song-stories and weave a larger one around them; the dialogue can be compressed so that the audience never has to wait long for the next musical number.

Produce a similar hit show first …

Bean and producer David Elzer’s previous collaboration, “The Marvelous Wonderettes,” was about a late ‘50s female songleader squad; the show ran for almost two years at the El Portal before moving to off-Broadway. From “Wonderettes,” Elzer says, he acquired “the skill-set one needs for a long-running show.” Actors cycle in and out of the show constantly. “There was one performance of ‘Wonderettes’ — my stomach churns just thinking about it — when we had four understudies go on,” he says with a groan. “Somebody had to get on stage and say, ‘At tonight’s performance, all four roles....’ ”

Keeping up with the current “Wonderettes” is like an exercise in air traffic control. The show reopened two weeks ago at Musical Theatre West for a three-week run in the 1,100-seat space (with three of the original cast members). After that it moves to Orange County and then to San Jose Rep. There are other scheduled productions in Chicago and half a dozen other cities.

… But be ruthless about your new product

“If a song didn’t move the story along,” says Elzer, “we cut it.” Bean gives notes regularly and is still tinkering with the script. “It’s hard to see the show because I always want to fix something,” he says with a sigh.

Make difficult material look easy

“Dream” couldn’t be simpler: a talent contest plot meets the star-crossed love story of strapping Skip (Keeling) and his boss’ daughter Lois, played by the porcelain-skinned Jessica Keenan Wynn. But the evening’s real star is the intricate harmonic pleasures of doo-wop, which by design doesn’t privilege one singer over another. (Bean credits musical director Michael Paternostro for creating the show’s distinctive sound.)

“Roger writes ensemble shows,” says Bets Malone, an original Wonderette. “Everyone’s passing a basketball all night. The focus is constantly switching. Sometimes you’ll come up with a new bit; then Roger comes in and says, ‘That’s brilliant, but I’m looking at you when I should be looking at her. So take it out.’ ” Malone calls the singing in “Wonderettes” “more difficult than ‘Evita.’ We had some amazing singers audition, but they couldn’t hold harmony parts. If it’s all going well, the actors are functioning as musical instruments.”

Cast opposites who attract

Keeling grew up in the hills of West Virginia; Wynn is from Hollywood royalty. He’s starred on Broadway and network television, she just graduated from UCLA. He was an athlete in high school who took dance lessons in secret, while Wynn’s showbiz debut came at age 6 months, when she played a baby abandoned at a party on “Golden Girls.” “I still get residuals,” she says with a laugh.

After that, her family (including grandfather Keenan Wynn, who appeared in scores of films from “Kiss Me, Kate” to “Point Blank”) decided it was a bit too soon to put her on the acting treadmill, and Wynn came back to the business through singing at summer camp. She applied to UCLA’s Musical Theatre Program three times before she got in.

Keeling got his Broadway break from appearing in NBC’s reality talent contest “Grease: You’re the One That I Want!,” calling it “the best and worst thing I’ve ever done in my life. For five months I was stuck in a house with six other guys who wanted to play Danny Zuko. The camera’s in your face 24 hours a day. The pressure is crazy. You’ll cry over anything. I remember bursting into tears when someone broke one of my CDs.”

Sell small as a positive

Elzer hasn’t been in a hurry to move “Dream” to a bigger venue. His reasoning, typically, is both aesthetic and commercial. “My greatest L.A. theater experiences have been in 99-seat spaces,” he says. “I love that an audience walks into a smaller space and is amazed at the quality of what they’re seeing. And I’d rather sell a 99-seat space for a year than a 300-seat venue for two or three months. Regional theaters start to notice. New York notices. Every time you announce an extension, a producer from another city shows up.”

Ask your mentor for help

After a successful run as a marketing executive at Columbia and Trimark, Elzer felt his love for theater creeping back in. “For some reason, Jonathan Larson’s [the creator of “Rent”] death really struck me. I thought, ‘What do I want my life to be about?’ ” What started as a single publicity gig to promote “The Lion King” in L.A. has now grown into a thriving business (Demand PR) and a burgeoning producing career (Elzer also produced “Jewtopia” and last season’s deliciously overripe “Dracula” at NoHo Arts Center).

On “King,” he met Peter Schneider, then president of animation and theatricals at Disney. Years later, when Elzer saw an early version of “Wonderettes” at Hermosa Beach Playhouse, he thought of Schneider. “Instinctively, I felt this could be the next ‘Forever Plaid’ franchise. I went to Peter and asked if he might be interested. He said, ‘David, if you think you can sell it, I’m in.’ I said, ‘Don’t you want to read it?’ He said, ‘No, I trust you.’ ”

Follow your dream

Keeling’s real ambition was outed at a high school baseball game back in West Virginia. “I was in the outfield and started practicing dance steps without thinking. My dad was in the stands with his racing buddies. He was like, ‘What is that boy doing?’ After that I had to come clean.”

Keeling came to L.A. with Burkhardt for film and television work and took persuading to come back to the stage, especially to do a period piece. After all, he’s played Danny Zuko more than 1,000 times. But he’s fallen back in love with theater. “This is my dad’s music,” he says. “We listened to it on the way to drag races. I grew up with it. So that really makes it a pleasure to sing.”

Wynn sounds like Lois when she enthuses about life after graduation. “I never imagined this would happen to me. Nine months out of school and I’m hosting the LA Weekly Awards?” She’s also been workshopping a Disney Villains project with “[title of show]” creators Hunter Bell and Jeff Bowen.

“A gentleman came up to me after a show the other day and told me he used to ride motorcycles with my grandfather,” says Wynn. “To have a stranger come up and share part of the family history I didn’t know tells me I’m doing the right thing. I really want to carry on their name.”

The show ends, and the audience buzzes around the theater’s cafe. Keeling looks for Burkhardt. He first saw her onstage in Reprise’s “Li’l Abner” in 2008 but was too intimidated to talk to her. They met about a year later while both working on Broadway.

Burkhardt’s verdict? “Derek has a natural way with music and styles of the ‘50s, which makes him just look effortless. I love what he does with ‘The Great Pretender’ and ‘Runaround Sue,’ though my favorite part is when he rips his shirt off.”

Another satisfied customer. Roger Bean’s doo-wop empire rolls on.

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