THE SCHOOL OF ROCK: Joy Arrives

It takes a while for The School of Rock — the musical itself, more than the  production — to find its groove. Or maybe it just takes a while for it to find my groove.

If you asked the creators of School of Rock, the musical or the non-musical movie upon which it’s based, who the story’s about, they’d probably tell you Dewey Finn, the wannabe rock god who sneaks into a substitute-teaching position meant for his friend/landlord Ned who, unlike Dewey, is an accredited teacher. At the uptight and expensive Horace Green private school, Dewey turns his school-uniformed students into rockers so they can all enter The Battle of the Bands together.

The story starts with Dewey. He gets kicked out of his band, he gets fired from work and, because he hasn’t been paying the rent, Ned and his girlfriend Patty are about to boot Dewey out of his room in their place. That’s why Dewey grabs the teaching gig: he needs the money. But here’s the thing: Dewey is such an irresponsible shirker that none of this feels like vulnerability; it just feels like Dewey is a jerk. Because I didn’t have anything or anybody to invest in, the opening scenes and songs didn’t work for me.

Then things turned around — progressively and massively — for three reasons.

Number 1:  When Dewey goes to Horace Green, we get to meet the kids. The wide stage is suddenly full of people and Jennifer Stewart’s set suddenly has walls. So, unlike in the opening scenes, when Dewey’s miserable little room is cowering off to the side of the stage with three people in it, it suddenly feels like we’re somewhere, like the space is full. And that includes sonically. The first time my ears perked up was for the school song, “Here at Horace Green”: the luxury of all those voices.

The relationships within this space also get more interesting. I’m not complaining about the acting when I say this, but Ned and Patty are stock characters: she’s a harpy and he’s a downtrodden dude. Thanks, misogyny. And their arguments with Dewey about money are generic. But the interactions between Dewey and the kids are eccentric: he opens his first class with them by asking if they know what a hangover is.

Reason Number 2: About halfway through Act 1, The School of Rock finds its heart in two numbers.  In “You’re in the Band”, Dewey’s students buy into the idea of forming a band together. We care about this because the kids are genuinely vulnerable. They’re financially privileged but emotionally starving because their wealthy parents are putting enormous pressure on them, which we hear about in the touching song “If Only You Would Listen”. These kids have solid reasons to rebel and rock out.

For me, The School of Rock is really about the kids. So structuring the story around Dewey feels off: Matilda wouldn’t be so great if it were told from Miss Honey’s point of view. So “You’re in the Band” is where The School of Rock landed solidly in my groove. When we got there, I wrote, “At last!” in my notebook.

And from there, things flew because, Reason Number 3: under the direction of Tracey Power, there are some terrific performances in this production that illuminate the show’s heart of hearts.

Although I think he’s hampered by the opening material, Colin Sheen makes a great Dewey. He’s got the vocal chops to do those high, rock wails and the musical chops to make his guitar wail. Sheen is such a confident, charismatic performer that he buoys the show, generously sharing the stage with — and, I’m sure, inspiring — his young scene partners.

I’m grateful for the grounded sense of naturalism that Emma Love brings to her portrait of the school principal Miss Mullins. And I’m grateful for her stratospheric soprano: she sings the Queen of Night’s aria from The Magic Flute, for god’s sake.

And let’s hear it for the band: Casey Trotter (drums), Fumi Okochi (keyboard). Mya Forrest (very cool on bass guitar), and the nimble-fingered Crosby Mark on lead guitar. These are all young performers, some of them very young, and they can all really play.

In terms of kids’ acting, I particularly enjoyed Thailey Roberge’s work as the prissy Summer, and Azaleah Korn as the shy Tomiko.

Most of The School of Rock worked for me because there’s a fantastic metatheatrical thing going on: as the students in the story are finding liberation through music, the young actors on the stage are having the time of their freaking lives. They’re singing and dancing, so full of life — and joy — that I was on the verge of tears for a lot of the evening. And that’s a pretty great result for a show that, for me, had a rocky start.

THE SCHOOL OF ROCK Based on the Paramount movie by Mike White. Book by Julian Fellowes. Lyrics by Glenn Slater. New music by Andrew Lloyd Webber. Directed by Tracey Power. On Thursday, July 11. A Theatre Under the Stars production running in rep at Malkin Bowl until August 24. Tickets and information

PHOTO CREDIT: The rapport that Colin Sheen shares with his young co-stars is a pleasure to behold. (Photo by Emily Cooper)