Cut Loose! Watch the Young Actors’ Theatre Get 'Footloose'

A wise person once said that despite the long history of injustice perpetrated in the name of religion, religion itself cannot be blamed—it’s the people, specifically those in positions of authority, who wield their faith as a weapon and inspire the masses to join them in campaigns of intolerance. Whenever religion pops up as a major theme or even minor plot device in art, this question of blame is usually bubbling right beneath the surface, and the best films, novels and plays that address it are typically those that focus on the fallibility of human nature.

The 's production of can be counted among them, attributed not only to the plot involving loss and grief and the way religion is used as a tool to right a perceived wrong, but by the strong performances that captured the conflicting feelings about where faith ends and religious bullying begins. As Reverend Moore, a grieving father, spiritual leader and author of his town’s ban on the allegedly sinful act of dancing, Ryan Dietrich exhibits an authentic range, from pious calm, passionate conviction and utter frustration at his failure to control his teenage daughter, Ariel.

As his philosophical adversary, recent Chicago-transplant Ren McCormack, portrayed by Kevin McDonald, treats religion with respect while railing against the unfair regulations thrust upon the town of Beaumont’s youth. His enthusiasm is infectious and his antagonism toward his straitlaced new home is understandable. He is also grieving for the father who left him and the friends and freedoms he was forced to leave behind. In many ways, Ren and the Reverend are more alike than different, and they both seem to figure that out—albeit the hard way—by the end of the show.

So, yes, , which most people identify immediately with Kevin Bacon and catchy songs from the '80s, has a much deeper undercurrent than its fantastically retro fashions and bubbly dance routines suggest. It’s about standing up for what you believe in, moving beyond tragedy and debilitating loss, and learning to listen to those you love the most. An immensely talented cast illustrated these themes without devolving into after-school special territory, successfully channeling their passion for performing into their characters with every song, step and slap across the face—there were quite a few. 

But, oh, those fashions! Most of the performers were not even born when their costumes were first in style. The audience, on the other hand, was audibly nostalgic, as one lady quietly exclaimed, “I had that shirt!” during the opening number. 

It was probably impossible for the costume director to limit choices to 1984——but the resulting palette of neon pants, popped collars and those half-denim, half-white skirts (which were so cool in their time, but look so horrid now) brought just the right mix of authenticity and wistfulness for a fashion era that many remembered, but no one would want to repeat. No one, that is, except David Votel, who deserves a special costume all-star award for rocking an actual mullet as Coach Dunbar—now that is commitment to a role.

Other honorable mentions include Gerardo Flores as Ren’s new friend Willard Hewitt, exuding adorable hickish charm, especially during his song “Mama Says (You Can’t Back Down),” in which he relates a host of down-home maternal wisdom to boost Ren’s confidence. Willard’s initial impression as just another backwater cowboy looking for a fight is quickly upended, highlighted by his sweet crush on motormouth Rusty, portrayed by Kiani Nelson.

Ariana Ramirez as Ariel Moore was equally charming, but not in the same innocent vein as Willard. Her anti-authoritarian, dangerously flirty character charmed Ren from the moment they met. Her singing voice, as well as McDonald’s, was lovely on its own, but especially moving when paired during the duet “Almost Paradise.”

Ariel’s boyfriend, Chuck, played by Ryan Sandvick, was about as far from lovely as you can get, but the character’s violent skeeziness was helped in part by a preconceived image of the actor in his most recent role: the deplorable racist Willy Conklin in YAT’s .

Chuck’s egocentric desperation to control Ariel, who is equally as desperate for freedom, drips with misogyny and machismo. The performance ensures that Sandvick, who is described as “new to theater” in the program, is destined to go far.

Aside from the fantastic cast, a special shout-out is due to the live orchestra, a relatively new addition to the YAT that uplifts every performance with it masterful musical skill. You might not think that Kenny Loggins and other '80s stalwarts could easily translate to musical theater, but under the direction of conductor Ian Lewis, the line between live cover and radio hit was wonderfully blurred.

Although a remake of the classic '80s film is due in October, is more than worth checking out. It might not have big-name stars or some of the iconic scenes that would be impractical in theater (such as a highway game of “chicken” and Ren’s ebullient dance sequence though an abandoned warehouse), but it offers an intimate experience exclusive to theater.

You get to see every bratty roll of Ariel’s eyes, every drop of flop sweat as Willard learns to dance, every furrow in Ethel McCormack’s (Cassie Nelson) brow as her son becomes the town pariah. But better yet, you get to see—up close and personal—the visible weight lifting from Reverend Moore’s shoulders as he accepts his own mistakes and releases the compassion and understanding that had been bottled up since the tragic accident that claimed his son and cast a judgmental, religion-tainted shadow over the town of Beaumont. Until, that is, plucky Ren McCormack danced his way into its heart.

The next performances of Footloose will take place July 14, 15 and 16 at 7 p.m. and July 17 at 2 p.m. To purchase tickets, call 619-670-1627 or visit www.yatsandiego.org.