There is much to behold and to be heard in Matilda the Musical, but too much attention must be directed at deciphering the aural part of the experience. You may find yourself hunting for identifiable key words in the lyrics to help make sense of the songs. It's a shame that so much of the work that Tim Minchin put into his densely packed songs ends up as just so much sonic mush.
The London and Broadway hit is now at the Orpheum Theatre, and that it's a darkly imaginative interpretation of the Roald Dahl story is clear in its touring edition. But what seems to be a confluence of a poor sound design, the high-pitched voices of the child performers, the occasionally shrill sounds from the adults, thick approximations of English accents, and all those intricately worded lyrics begging for clarity is a cause of consternation that I'm sure was widely shared on opening night.
Dahl wrote children's books that often had an edge, with Matilda more overtly rebellious than Charlie and the Chocolate Factory and James and the Giant Peach. Enough so that the musical's sophistication can also make a grab at adult audiences without children in tow. The Royal Shakespeare Company developed the show that debuted in Stratford-upon-Avon in 2010 before sending it to London and Broadway for commercial runs that are still packing in audiences.
Title character Matilda Wormwood was despised by her parents from birth. Pregnancy interfered with her mother's hope to compete in an amateur ballroom dance competition, and her father wanted to trade her in for a boy before they left the hospital. But they reluctantly take her home, only to verbally abuse her for such defects as preferring reading over television and pointing out her father's unscrupulous tactics as a used-car salesman. They can't wait to send her off to a school with the motto Bambinatum Est Maggitum, which sounds better than its English translation as "Children are maggots."
Dennis Kelly's script and Matthew Warchus' direction get to kick up a notch once the action relocates to Crunchem Hall Academy, and Peter Darling's quirky, exuberant choreography gets to cut loose. Matilda has a kind and sympathetic teacher named Miss Honey, but she's no match for headmistress Miss Trunchbull, who once was an Olympic medalist in the hammer throw, and rules the school as a sadistic tyrant who threaten misbehaving tykes with the dreaded spike-filled cabinet known as the chokey.
But Matilda is clever at getting both herself and her classmates out of trouble at least some of the time. She has already established herself as a great storyteller, fascinating the librarian (a delightful Ora Jones) with installments of a yarn illustrated in different ways about married acrobats, their planned death-defying stunt, and an evil sister who brings their world crumbling down. It's a concocted story that Matilda realizes is somehow a parable for Miss Trunchbull's history with Miss Honey. If there is some sort of extrasensory action at play, it fully manifests itself in a burst of telekinesis that finally sends Miss Trunchbull packing.
Three young actresses rotate as Matilda, and opening night brought Mabel Tyler to the fore with a performance that commands the stage with quiet intensity. Her main competition is in Bryce Ryness' Miss Trunchbull, a role always cast with a man but decidedly without drag camp. Ryness has great comedic sensibility even amidst the character's fearsomeness with an array of slow burns, double takes, and precise comic timing. As Miss Honey, Jennifer Blood is appropriately angelic, and her ballads are the only moments when we are sure of the words being sung.
They are also a respite from a generally clamorous tone, reaching a piercing pitch during Matilda's scenes at home with her tacky-glamorous mother (Cassie Silva) and her pompously deluded father (Quinn Mattfeld). The musical's best moments are in the classroom, as director Warchus and choreographer Darling put the kids into all sorts of clever physical permutations. At least, they're the best moments when Miss Trunchbull isn't center stage throwing little girls into the air by their pigtails. Not for nothing did she win the gold in the hammer throw.
Matilda the Musical will run at the Orpheum Theatre through Aug. 15. Tickets are $45-$210. Call (888) 746-1799 or go to shnsf.com.