The so-called monster at the heart of the new musical “Bigfoot!” is the sort of irresistibly charming beast your 7-year-old self might have dreamed up as an imaginary friend, his luxurious fur blowing in the wind as if on tour with Beyoncé.
Fortunately, he’s been sprung from the giddy minds of his creators, including the comedian Amber Ruffin, and, as played by a terrifically unhinged Grey Henson, barrels his way through the campy musical wielding a stealth charisma. Doused in B-movie vibes and maximum goofiness by the director and choreographer Danny Mefford, his story is one of a humble and misunderstood outcast targeted by ignorance and greed. (“Awww!” would be the desired response from audiences at New York City Center Stage I, where the musical opened on Sunday.)
This version of the folkloric figure still resides in the wild, but wants nothing more than to live like a ho-hum human. The product of a nuclear-powered liaison between a carny dad of unspecified origins and a doting human mother (a wry, radiant Crystal Lucas-Perry), Bigfoot is more man than boogeyman, quietly protecting nearby villagers. His mother tends to him in the woods (the versatile storybook set is by Timothy Mackabee), with help from a doctor (Jason Tam), so the people don’t peg her son as an enemy.
That fear proves well-founded, of course. Set in “1980-something” in a smudge of a town called Muddirt, “Bigfoot!” playfully crams as many tropes as it can into a 90-minute running time, taking cues from cult sci-fi films, TV sitcoms (like “Alf”) and stage shows that have trod similar territory (including “Bat Boy: The Musical,” recently revived upstairs at New York City Center). Pretty soon, Bigfoot is scapegoated by the cartoon-villain mayor (played by Alex Moffat, with panache and a righteous mullet), who calls for a manhunt (foothunt?) to distract townspeople from his own corruption.
The musical’s progressive parable is as naked as Bigfoot’s giant, hairy body, nearly to the point of self-parody. In addition to its critique of craven, inept politicians who sic their constituents on a common enemy, the script (by Ruffin and Kevin Sciretta) is littered with quips about the climate crisis, discrimination and the pitfalls of capitalism. All of that is delivered, though, with a quickness that lends the show’s politics a light touch, allowing it to maintain a register of deep and unrelenting stupidity.
Rather than take the setup’s humor for granted, Ruffin, who wrote the lyrics, and Sciretta, an alum of Second City in Chicago, pack the show with ecstatically silly punchlines and physical gags. (Bigfoot’s mom keeps fainting from a mysterious sickness; when the doctor slaps her awake, she slaps right back.) The music, by Ruffin and David A. Schmoll, who collaborated on the former’s late-night show, is a buoyant pastiche of styles — including doo-wop, power balladry and even heavy metal — with the familiar sounds setting off Ruffin’s unexpected lyrics. When the mayor plots with a loaded C.E.O. (a fantastic Jade Jones) to build a water park where affordable housing ought to be, they duet with the refrain “money is my daddy.”
Mefford, who also directed the revival of “25th Annual Putnam County Spelling Bee” running Off Broadway, delivers madcap comedy with such ease that you might overlook the virtuosity of it all: Much of the six-person cast, including Katerina McCrimmon as a hunter tricked out in taxidermy, are playing multiple roles (the rad and often furry costumes are by Ricky Reynoso).
The show’s self-conscious recycling of genre clichés doesn’t leave a lot of room for originality. Still, doing a lot — or in this case, the most — with a little has long been a winning ethos for scrappy comedy. The formula has led to a recent Off Broadway renaissance that includes popular productions like “Little Shop of Horrors,” “Heathers” and “Titanique,” the last of which is heading to Broadway, where new musicals have struggled to take hold amid harsh financial conditions. If that means more ingenuity in more basements, ogres and all, we should count ourselves lucky.
Bigfoot! Through April 26 at City Center Stage I, Manhattan; nycitycenter.org. Running time: 1 hour and 30 minutes.
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