Amelie, the 2001 French movie, is a pop-abstract extravaganza, playfully employing magic realism to create a rose-tinted Paris where the title character's mission of "anonymous good-deed doing" is amply rewarded. To put that world on stage would require either the budget of a Spider-Man musical, and still come up wanting, or completely reimagining it with theatrical invention replacing its cinematic equivalents. Wisely, and with imagination bursting forth from every square inch on Berkeley Rep's Roda Theatre stage, the creators of Amelie, a New Musical have taken the latter route, with felicitous results.
It's been nearly 15 years since I saw the movie, at a time when I needed a feel-good boost, and that goodwill carried forth into this world-premiere production that clearly is thinking about life after Berkeley. Only after the performance did I consider that cinematic memories were being played forward, filling in some of Amelie's adventures in frisky philanthropy and fearful human contact that have been condensed for the intermissionless musical.
I came in already caring about the title character, while my theatergoing companion, who had not seen the movie, never quite reached that state. But it's difficult to conceive that anyone would not be swept up in the carnival-like swirl of the production, from an ear-pleasing score by Daniel Messe and Nathan Tysen, to the inventive choreography by Sam Pinkleton, the wondrous costume and scenic designs of David Zinn, and Pam McKinnon's fluid and endlessly ingenious direction.
Craig Lucas' adaptation of the original screenplay is able to make use of a surprising amount of both the story and what might seem like throwaway atmospheric curlicues. As with the movie, the musical starts with Amelie's childhood with her emotionally repressed parents and the imagination that helps her cope with her isolation. The production finds its own screwball visual language to deal with her tedious homeschooling, the loss of her pet goldfish, the sudden death of her mother, and her father's obsession with garden gnomes.
Setting out on her own in Paris, with a waitress job at a cafe filled with oddball regulars and a close-quarters apartment that lets her benignly spy on her neighbors, Amelie becomes an anonymous puppet master setting up situations to spur others to happiness. It is around these events that truncation lessens the impact of Lucas' book, both in her beneficent actions and her occasional pranks against the story's sourpusses. But Amelie's is still a Paris of pop-up-book enchantments rendered in a kaleidoscope of consciously low-tech visual effects.
As the cinematic Amelie, Audrey Tatou gave the movie an irresistible twinkle that Samantha Barks matches in her own way. When not playing specific roles, the other cast members work as an ensemble who can become as one as they push Amelie toward her romantic destiny. Adam Chanler-Berat charmingly plays the object of Amelie's mostly long-distance infatuation, a quirky artist who must endure her cat-and-mouse game that finally leads him to her door.
Other colorfully drawn characters include Maria-Christina Oliveras' former trapeze artist, Amelie's comically stiff father played by John Hickok, Alyse Alan Louis' mousy waitress, Paul Whitty's cynical cafe patron, Tony Sheldon as Amelie's wise neighbor, Savvy Crawford as young Amelie, and Randy Blair as the cafe's resident poet, who doubles in an outlandish performance as Elton John in Amelie's fantasy version of Princess Diana's funeral.
There is no song list provided in the program, and some of Messe and Tysen's compositions meld gracefully into the action even with an occasional left-field lyric designed to pull you up by surprise. But there are several stand-alone songs that have the sound of potential hits outside the show. An eight-piece band led by musical director Kimberly Grigsby surrounds the show in a rich sound.
At this early point, Amelie could use some elaboration on why the title character is special enough for us to fully invest ourselves. But it is still an amazing enterprise, filled with visual delights, lovely music, ingratiating performances, and a story whose main purpose is to make you smile.
Amelie, a New Musical will run at Berkeley Rep through Oct. 4. Tickets are $29-$97. Call (510) 647-2949 or go to berkeleyrep.org.