Looking for a festive show for the holiday season full of heartwarming family feeling? Then you’re in luck. A new revival of “La Cage aux Folles” opened at the Pasadena Playhouse on Sunday, and the show is as glittering as a Macy’s shop window at Christmastime.
Long before same-sex-marriage was a realistic possibility, Harvey Fierstein and Jerry Herman’s 1983 musical brought a message of acceptance of nontraditional families to Broadway. The family at the center of “La Cage” consists of two deeply committed men, Georges (Cheyenne Jackson), who owns a nightclub on the French Riviera, and Albin (Kevin Cahoon), the star attraction of this drag establishment. Together, they have raised Georges’ biological son, Jean-Michel (Ryan J. Haddad), and a cozier, kinder domestic unit would be hard to find outside of a Hallmark movie.
Farcical havoc ensues when Jean-Michel requests Georges and Albin play it straight when his future in-laws pay a visit. He’s not ashamed of his parents, but Anne (Shannon Purser), his fiancée, is the daughter of Edouard Dindon (Michael McDonald), a conservative politician with a rabid anti-gay platform. Jean-Michel is in love, and doesn’t want to lose this chance at happiness.
With a score by Herman (“Hello, Dolly!,” “Mame”) full of irresistible melodies, a book by Fierstein (“Torch Song Trilogy”) as comically outrageous as it is sweetly relatable and a flock of drag performers (known as Les Cagelles) in flamboyant feather, “La Cage” won over audiences who might have been reluctant to travel in from the suburbs for an offering built on such an unconventional premise. Theatergoers, however, turned out in droves for a show that gave them that old fashioned musical feeling.
The original Broadway production ran more than four years, winning six Tony Awards, including best musical. What “Will & Grace” did on television, “La Cage” did years earlier in the theater, depicting gay people as human beings, just as lovably mixed up as ordinary folks, only with better comic timing and a good deal more entertainment value.
Director Sam Pinkleton turns up the party volume in a revival that sometimes allows the comic ambiance to get the better of its emotional through line. Spectacular to look at, the production is unfailingly exuberant, a parade of color and catchy chanson. It’s a welcome time to reencounter “La Cage,” even if the production ultimately delights the senses more than it grabs the heart.
The performers are encouraged to play their roles to the comic hilt. Perhaps that’s why I appreciated Cheyenne Jackson’s tender portrayal of Georges, the proprietor and emcee of the club called La Cage aux Folles, which is downstairs from where he lives with Albin. Flaunting his ripped physique, Jackson is costumed to resemble a Tom of Finland stud. But it’s the gorgeous sincerity of his singing that seduces.
Zaza, Albin’s drag alter ego, may be the club’s marquee draw, but in this revival, Georges is the real superstar. I could listen to Jackson croon “Song on the Sand” and “Look Over There” on an eternal loop. But it’s not just his way with a Broadway show tune. Jackson grounds Georges and Albin’s de facto marriage in adoring love.
Albin, of course, has the most famous number in the show, “I Am What I Am.” This gay anthem of self-acceptance became a disco hit for Gloria Gaynor. But for the song to work its magic in the musical, Albin’s interior life must poke through the makeup, dresses and temperamental diva histrionics.
Cahoon’s approach to the role is so full of zany affectations and mannerisms that it’s hard to feel on intimate terms with Albin. Imagine a Randy Rainbow parody of Tracie Bennett’s performance as Judy Garland in the musical “End of the Rainbow” and you’ll have an approximation of what Cahoon is up to here. (He was terrific, by the way, as Peanut in the 2023 Broadway musical “Shucked,” receiving a Tony nomination for his hilarious performance.) I was hoping the music would reveal softer qualities in Albin’s nature, but Cahoon’s singing only continued the comic stridency.
His rendition of “I Am What I Am” that brings the first act to a close emphasizes Albin’s rage. It’s a valid choice, but it doesn’t leave much room for other feelings. The English actor Douglas Hodge, who won a Tony for his performance as Albin in the 2010 Broadway revival, delivered the number like a stark cry from the heart, without neglecting the rousing life-affirming place from which the lyrics and music emerge.
George Salazar, who plays Jacob, Albin’s sassy, stage-struck maid (don’t call him a butler!), and Nicole Parker, who plays Marie Dindon, Edouard’s weary and increasingly fed-up wife, bring fresh specificity to the comedy. Too much of the production’s humor has a general anything-for-a-guffaw obviousness, but Salazar (who has become a regular at Pasadena Playhouse) and Parker (who has real physical comedy chops) make their roles their own.
There’s a lot of French shtick thrown in for cheap laughs. What’s ironic about the Pepé Le Pew accents and rubbery baguettes is that the setting looks more like Florida than the St. Tropez of the musical, which is based on the play by Jean Poiret that gave rise to Édouard Molinaro‘s 1978 film. (American moviegoers are probably more familiar with the tale from “The Birdcage,” the 1996 Mike Nichols film, starring Robin Williams and Nathan Lane, which relocates the action to Miami’s South Beach.)
The confection shop scenic design by David Zinn doesn’t shy away from kitsch. (This is Las Vegas’ idea of the South of France, which places us more or less in Sunshine State territory.) David I. Reynoso’s costumes add to the scenic glitter. When Les Cagelles comes out to sing “We Are What We Are” early in the first act, they’re concealed in tents of disco ball sparkle.
Pinkleton — who directed Cole Escola’s current hit Broadway comedy, “Oh, Mary!” and co-directed (with Jenny Koons) the retooled Pasadena Playhouse production of “Head Over Heels,” which transformed the theater into a 1980s dance club — puts his imprint on “La Cage” most notably in the inclusive casting. This is a revival that extends the show’s lesson about looking past differences to include bodily types and even physical ability.
Haddad, an actor with cerebral palsy who uses a walker on stage, plays Georges and Albin’s earnest son Jean-Michel with grit. It can’t be easy for Jean-Michel to have turned out so square when his parents are so defiantly curlicued, but Haddad lends the young man both an iron will and a conscience.
Purser’s Anne isn’t the demure ingenue of more traditional productions, even though McDonald’s Edouard Dindon has no problem playing the farcical parental heavy. Shea Diamond’s Jacqueline, owner of the trendy restaurant where Georges and Albin take the Dindons for dinner, could give any of the performers at Georges’ nightclub a run for their money.
Les Cagelles, meanwhile, make clear that conventional beauty standards have nothing to do with cabaret prowess. Set in motion by Ani Taj’s choreography, these performers flaunt their individuality like nothing could be more magnificent. They’re right.
And how could anyone resist letting go of pesky inhibitions with Herman’s empowering score filling up Pasadena Playhouse with pure effervescence. Kudos once again to producing artistic director Danny Feldman for reminding us what a live orchestra sounds like in a regional theater and to music director Darryl Archibald for drawing out the score’s elegiac shadows and romantic uplift.
This revival succeeds perhaps most fully in the welcoming embrace it extends to all. Albin’s epiphany in “I Am What I Am” is simple yet profound: He wants neither praise nor pity, but only to be seen as his “own special creation.”
What better message for the holiday season, and what a perfect time to be reminded of this hard-won truth.
‘La Cage Aux Folles’
Where: Pasadena Playhouse, 39 S. El Molino Ave., Pasadena
When: 8 p.m. Tuesdays, Wednesdays, Fridays, 7 p.m. Thursdays, 2 and 8 p.m. Saturdays, 2 p.m. and 7 p.m. Sundays. (Check for exceptions.) Ends Dec. 15
Tickets: Start at $44
Contact: (626) 356-7529 or PasadenaPlayhouse.org
Running time: 2 hours, 30 minutes