Some Flourishes From ‘The Scarlet Pimpernel’

That damned, elusive Pimpernel. They seek him here, they seek him there, and soon they’ll be seeking him everywhere, at least for other swashbuckling roles. Making his Broadway debut, Doug Sills scores as the Scarlet Pimpernel, the incognito hero Leslie Howard famously played in the 1934 British film. Sills, a regular on West Coast stages, swaggers, preens and sings his way into the audience’s heart in the newest version of Baroness Emmuska Orczy’s 1905 tale, a hokey confection of English derring-do on French soil.

The all-new, often wacky, sometimes inept musical called “The Scarlet Pimpernel” opened Sunday on Broadway at the Minskoff Theatre. Whatever else it fails to do, this cream puff of a show knows how to stroke an audience with just the right blend of lavish spectacle, romance and a plot you’d be advised not to examine very closely.

A British aristocrat, the Pimpernel sneaks disguised into France circa 1794 to rescue doomed former aristocrats from guillotine fever. His actual identity is Sir Percy Blakeney, who at home safeguards his secret by acting the trivial society fop. The Pimpernel is a great role because he gets to be selfless and wear great clothes. Like Leslie Howard before him, Sills is devilishly good at playing the handsome peacock, trouncing French names and making inane declarations and expecting applause.

Before the curtain rises, two crystal chandeliers levitate, as if to summon the ghost of box-office riches from “The Phantom of the Opera.” A short, poppy overture doesn’t ask anyone to sit for too long (or listen too hard). A moment later, the show conjures up “Les Miserables,” with miserable Frenchmen awaiting death in a dungeon. “The Scarlet Pimpernel” sometimes does make good on the promise of its references and of its large advance sale. Director Peter Hunt and writer Nan Knighton (book and lyrics) actually spin gold on occasion from this dross. But at other times they seem completely mystified by how to do so.

Act 1 is mostly smooth sailing. Unlike in the film, we see Percy (Sills) wed his beautiful French Marguerite (Christine Andreas) and then discover that she may have betrayed some aristocrats to the evil Chauvelin (Terrence Mann), her former lover. We see Percy hatch his plot to become the Pimpernel with his band of merry men, all fellow English aristocrats. In the glorious Act 1 number “Into the Fire,” Percy and his men travel from an English library, seamlessly on board a sailing ship and then down onto a town square in France, in disguise, while the flats fly and the scenery moves without a sound or a hitch. This is solid Broadway showmanship--cocky and pleasurable and even thrilling.

Where the first act dazzles, the second act falters and dips. In the middle of a dangerous midnight intrigue on a bridge, first Marguerite and then Percy pauses to sing about their deep feelings for each other, which we are already well aware of. The musical’s dramatic resolution is a mess. For starters, Marguerite loudly exposes her plan to snare Chauvelin while he is listening outside the door, after he has just left the room. Further, anyone with a modicum of sense or good vision will figure out the Big Surprise--presumably the one the ad asks you not to reveal--long in advance. Finally, the last plot flourish goes on much longer than common sense or the situation requires and happens offstage to boot.

Frank Wildhorn’s score is better than the one he wrote for “Jekyll & Hyde,” playing down the street at the Plymouth Theater. “Madame Guillotine,” the opening number in which the peasants reveal the dark, sensual thrill of the executions, has a certain intoxicating bravura, as does “Into the Fire.” But too often the ballads have a blobby, bland pop quality. Particularly undistinguished is “You Are My Home,” an 11 o’clock number for Marguerite and her brother (Gilles Chiasson), in which Knighton writes a one-size-fits-all lyric for an extremely specific dramatic situation.

Andreas is lovely in voice and form, and Terrence Mann brings some new sexual tension to the singing nemesis that he perfected in “Les Miserables.” Andrew Jackness’ handsome sets change with a fluidity that signals there has been some advance in technology. That, coupled with the beyond-sumptuous gowns and 2-foot-high hats by Jane Greenwood, makes the audience feel it has gotten its money’s worth, even if in the end it is only in the mercenary sense.

Will the second-act muddle spoil the success of “The Scarlet Pimpernel”? Highly doubtful. This savvy-enough production will snag hordes who love a mindless evening. The rest will secretly not have a bad time.

* “The Scarlet Pimpernel,” Minskoff Theatre, 200 W. 45th St. (800) 755-4000.