Vista’s Moonlight is offering two impressive debuts — the company’s beautifully rebuilt stage house and a rousing production that features one of the most famous openings in musical theater:

The curtain rises, then pauses, revealing only dozens of pairs of tap-dancing legs.

It’s the clickety-clickety beginning of “42nd Street,” the 1981Tony-winning tuner directed and choreographed by Gower Champion, who tragically died of cancer just before the show’s 1980 premiere — and that memorable first scene.

Jon Engstrom was a featured hoofer and dance captain in that production, and he has since paid homage by helming and choreographing several editions of “42nd Street,” the latest being this Moonlight extravaganza.

The acting has some soft spots, but that hardly matters. The flimsy and familiar chorine-to-star story serves basically as the tree on which to hang a wealth of dazzling dance numbers, several of which accompany songs that have become standards, like the title tune and “Lullaby of Broadway.”

Those were penned by melodist Harry Warren and lyricist Al Dubin for 1930s films, including the major hit “42nd Street,” adapted from the novel by Bradford Ropes. For the 1980 stage production, Champion teamed them and other Warren-Dubin favorites, like “We’re in the Money” and “Shuffle Off to Buffalo,” with a book by Michael Stewart and Mark Bramble. Then Champion hearkened back to Busby Berkeley days and created lavish tap spectacles, featuring scores of dancers, rainbows of costumes, evocative scenery and oversize props.

Engstrom does likewise. Most songs, particularly the well-known, start as — or quickly turn into — Big Numbers, allowing him to utilize a variety of tap styles. Naturally, they include frenetic arm-waving, shuffles, leaps and brush steps. But they include the slow and sexy as well, like the lush interlude in the otherwise lively rendition of “42nd Street,” when Cassie Silva, as newly minted star Peggy, and Jeffrey Scott Parsons, as wannabe boyfriend Billy, caress and entwine in sinewy movements more tango than tap.

Another quiet triumph is the “Shadow Waltz,” placing dancers on a darkened stage in front of, and behind, a lighted scrim. Christina Munich’s lighting makes their silhouettes grow or shrink, and one clever coordination has a normal-sized shadow dancing with a giant one.

"We're in the Money"

Photo by Ken Jacques

Usually, however, the dancers fill the stage in a harmonious, flowing, multi-hued mosaic. One number that surely would have made ol’ Busby proud is “We’re in the Money.” Giant coins get rolled out and become dancing platforms, all in front of a green-tinted Gotham skyline in which many of the buildings are big stacks of coins.

Among all those delightful dances, meanwhile, is the implausible Depression-era tale of a young woman who “learned all the facts of life in Allentown” and comes to New York, hoping to win a spot in the chorus of the big comeback musical planned by notoriously tough director Julian Marsh. That production is planned around aging star Dorothy Brock because her sugar daddy is spooning out a sweet investment in the show.

Peggy gets her big (literal) break when Dorothy shatters her ankle in a bumping she blames on Peggy. Julian fires the chorine, but quickly gets persuaded that he made a mistake and pursues her. He offers her the starring role if she can learn all the lines, dances and whatever else in three days.

Silva, as Peggy, handles the triple demands of her role, believable as the naïf in the Peter Pan collar and as the vocalist-dancer capable of carrying a show. David Kirk Grant is a modulated Marsh, showcasing a sturdy voice in his “Lullaby” and “42nd Street” numbers. And he gets the fun of delivering the show’s trademark line: "You're going out there a youngster, but you've got to come back a star!"

Parsons, as Billy, belies his youthful looks with mature singing and heavyweight hoofing. And among the chorines, Deidre Haren stood out as Anytime Annie (with her curly red wig, she looked a lot like that other Annie). On the other hand, Amy Biedel, as Dorothy, never rang true. Admittedly, the character has to make an unbelievable turn-around, but Biedel (who sang well) didn’t sincerely convey any of her emotions. As Maggie, the musical’s co-writer, Jennifer Wilcove came off better when she shunned the exaggerated gruff voice.

Elan McMahan’s musical direction enhanced the superb score, and Peter Hashagen’s sound design kept the voices clear, although that old bugaboo, static, crackled now and then. Munich’s illumination brightened the proceedings and supplied some dramatic spotlighting. The tech team undoubtedly enjoyed having the expanded area and new facilities, especially the fly space for the show’s many and large sets. They and the costumes came from other productions, with the latter coordinated by Roslyn Lehman, Renetta Loyd and Carlotta Malone.

The new 12,000-square-foot stage house is handsomely brown with black sound baffles, a deeper orchestra pit and a large overhang, which houses sound and lighting equipment. The seating arrangement has stayed much the same, although many of the grounds facilities, and access to the outdoor theater, have been improved. The City of Vista and Moonlight artistic director Kathy Brombacher can be especially proud.

Cast and credits