Pleasing tap-dance comedy pulls off sleight of foot

The tap-dance comedy “Stepping Out” works – and works surprisingly well – because of playwright Richard Harris’ foolproof structure.

He devotes 90 minutes to showing us how charmingly inept the cast members are as dancers. Then, in the final 10 minutes, he outfits them in top hats and canes and lets ‘em strut their highly talented stuff.

Even when you know it’s coming, it’s impossible to resist. I saw the same show at Interplayers 14 years ago, but this time around I still got a silly amount of pleasure watching this gang of “Stepping Out” misfits flawlessly perform the buck and wing.

This show is right in director Troy Nickerson’s wheelhouse, because, let’s face it, he knows these characters. They are amateurs with a passion. They want to perform, but are also deathly afraid to perform. Yet with the right teacher, they blossom. Nickerson has been that teacher (and director) for many talented amateurs over the years.

Of course, the key to doing “Stepping Out” well is to cast people who are in fact talented dancers, but don’t necessarily look it. When we first see this motley crew gathered in a New York church basement, we see a collection of students skewing deep into middle age, wearing baggy sweats that conceal mostly baggy bodies. They can’t execute the simplest step without (1) running into someone, (2) mistaking right for left, or (3) falling down.

Through most of the show, these characters show little evidence of improvement. This ensemble cast pulls off ineptitude skillfully, which is harder than it looks. When Greg Pschirrer, playing Geoffrey (the lone male), gets his legs tangled into a half-hitch, it is not by accident. He is executing a move that probably requires the same level of practice and body control as a graceful dance move. Yet Pschirrer never once betrays, through facial expression or body language, the fact that he is a highly skilled dancer. Not, that is, until the finale.

The other cast members all manage the same feat. One comic standout is Kathie Doyle-Lipe, who plays Vera, a wealthy English housewife who is terribly, terribly concerned with order and propriety, yet is also terribly, terribly rude.

“I used to be fat, too,” she says sweetly to another character.

Doyle-Lipe had audience members (including this one) howling with laughter as she attempted to demonstrate a “vamp” move on poor Geoffrey.

Danae Lowman plays the class teacher, Mavis, with a nice combination of grace, patience and, eventually, utter exasperation. Lei Broadstone was also believable and fun to watch as Maxine, the only other experienced dancer in class.

Becky Moonitz was hilarious as the sour Mrs. Fraser, the musical accompanist and overall grouchy Eeyore of the class. Moonitz even gave us a taste of a Grieg concerto between scenes.

Among the rest of the uniformly strong ensemble, Angela M. Snyder was especially effective as the lonely nurse, Andy.

This show is more lightweight than standard Interplayers fare. Yet if it packs in the crowds it deserves, it could help the financially struggling Interplayers return to its old form.