Can-Can by Cole Porter, with book by Abe Burrows, revised by Joel Fields and David Lee

Can-Can, at the Paper Mill Playhouse, is what it probably always was: pure Champagne. Sober theatergoers who want depth — or what passes for it — in musicals can go see Les Miz. The 1953 musical Can-Can, about wicked Paris in the gay Nineties, is all froth, as any show by Cole Porter set in Paris (and he wrote a lot of them: Paris, Les Girls, Fifty Million Frenchmen) is bound to be. This cheerful revival, which comes to the Paper Mill by way of the Pasadena Playhouse en route to Broadway, is not much the worse for having a lightweight — rewritten — book. Nor is it much the worse for a somewhat uneven score — not, on the whole, one of Porter’s strongest, although individual tunes (“I Love Paris,” “It’s All Right With Me”) remain among his knockouts. Which is merely to say that Cole Porter, perhaps the greatest of American Songbook writers, has spoiled us: They can’t all be Night and Day. No matter. Strong voices, supple dancing, good comedy “business” in the right places, good swordplay in unexpected places, exceptional scenic design by Rob Bissinger, colorful and vivid costumes by Ann Hould-Ward and inventive direction by David Lee provide enough fizz and fun to make for a happy evening. Talent, like Champagne, can take the edge off anything. The witty staging begins even before the show does — with conductor Steve Orich, in the vigorous overture, conducting a pit full of cardboard musicians, based on what look like Daumier engravings.