STAGE REVIEWS : ‘DAMES AT SEA’

“Dames at Sea” is a sweet, simple, silly show, and all those qualities surface in the good-natured production staged by Huntington Beach Playhouse.

The accent here is on the silly, with running gags and mock-glitzy production numbers that capture the affectionate spirit of this musical spoof of 1930s movie musicals. You know, the ones where the fresh-faced young ingenue, just off the bus from Midtown, U.S.A. (or, in this case, Centerville, Utah), arrives on Broadway with nothing but talent and tap shoes.

Naturally, she lands a spot right away in the chorus of a big Broadway musical and meets the guy of her dreams. Then, on opening night, the leading lady gets sick and can’t go on. Who can save the show? You guessed it, winning the hearts of the critics, the audience and the handsome sailor--who just happens to have written the entire score of the hit show, so he gets his big break too. Gosh, isn’t life swell?

And it was, at least on the silver screen. The key to selling this cliched material is to play it with earnest conviction, knowing the conspiratorial wink is written into the lyrics. (Jim Weiss, George Haimsohn and Robin Miller wrote the wonderfully inane music and lyrics.) Happily, there’s not a trace of guile in the performances of Kathryn Byrd as the young hoofer Ruby and Michael Gaffney as sailor-songwriter Dick. They are both daffy with optimistic naivete, gee-whiz enthusiasm and young love--and they can really sing and tap too.

Paige Scurti is cozily warm and bubbly as Joan, the blonde chorine who sets her cap for seaman Lucky, genially played by Joe Herzog. Joni Gray is properly imperious as Broadway headliner Mona Kent, but she is less than larger-than-life. (And this dragon queen is nothing if not larger than life: a Star with a capital S who scratched and kicked and bit her way to the top, and don’t you forget it, buster.)

There are a few miscalculations, starting with an awkwardly placed staircase that obstructs much of the stage for all of the first act. It proves a major distraction in a show that spotlights tap dancing. Some of the running gags are effective (such as chorus members’ popping out of the scenery), but others get old fast (the continually tripping Lucky).

Director Kysa Cobb also has provided some spirited choreography, which the cast carries off with aplomb. They pull out all the stops in production numbers such as “The Beguine,” which, with a cardboard moon and waving palm fronds in the background, enumerates the pleasures of Pensacola; and “Raining in My Heart,” in which a gloomy Ruby is surrounded with cheerfully dancing clouds.