Music and lyrics by Lisa Lambert and Greg Morrison. Book by Bob Martin and Don McKellar. Directed by Gillian Barber. Musical direction by Kevin Michael Cripps. A Theatre Under the Stars production. At Malkin Bowl in Stanley Park on Tuesday, July 18. Continues until August 19

If you love musical theatre, nostalgia, and sarcasm, The Drowsy Chaperone wraps them all up in one colourful package.

This Canadian musical has humble origins: it began as a wedding gift, was revived for the Toronto Fringe Festival, then was picked up by Mirvish Productions, and later went to Broadway, where it received five Tony Awards. The Drowsy Chaperone is a loving tribute to the power of music and theatre to rescue us from loneliness.

Ironic, then, that its opening line, delivered by the solitary apartment dweller known only as Man in Chair, is “I hate theatre!” But not all theatre: in an effort to escape his “self-conscious anxiety resulting in nonspecific sadness”, he pulls out one of his favourite records, the soundtrack to a (fictional) 1928 musical called The Drowsy Chaperone. As he listens to it, the show comes to life around him.

The plot of the play-within-the-play is a parody of 1920s musical theatre: Janet, a star, is giving up her career to marry Robert. On their wedding day, the martini-loving Chaperone is tasked with keeping the bride and groom apart just for the day, but Broadway producer Feldzieg is determined to stop the nuptials altogether so he can keep Janet on-stage. Throw in a bimbo starlet, a society matron and her butler, a pair of gangsters disguised as bakers, a Lothario, and (why not?) an aviatrix, and you’ve got all the ingredients for full-on musical mayhem.

The songs themselves—which range from “Toledo Surprise,” in which a threat disguised as a recipe turns into a big dance number, to “Bride’s Lament”, which sees the stage overrun with monkeys—are huge fun. Lisa Lambert and Greg Morrison’s witty lyrics and nostalgic melodies are well showcased by this cast, and Shelley Stewart Hunt’s choreography sees performers dancing on countertops and in sinks, filling every inch of Man in Chair’s dingy apartment.

Bob Martin and Don McKellar’s book offers another layer of pleasure in the Man’s many comments, filling us in on the lives of the actors in the musical (one died at home and was partially eaten by his poodles), or offering disclaimers on certain scenes. His sardonic commentary simultaneously mocks and pays tribute to musical-theatre conventions while revealing a character who is fussy, lonely, and not always intentionally funny. Regarding the show’s leading man, whom he obviously finds attractive, Man in Chair says, “Some people say he was a bad actor, but to those people, I say, ‘Shut up!’”

Under Gillian Barber’s direction, Shawn Macdonald combines fastidiousness and enthusiasm in just the right proportion; he’s a man in the grip of a very individual obsession, but his joy is infectious. Caitriona Murphy confidently inhabits the grand-dame role of Beatrice Stockwell, whose Chaperone is all tipsy charm; her big number, “As We Stumble Along”, is a terrific showcase for her vocals. Shannon Hanbury’s Janet also sings like a dream, and she accompanies every line she speaks with showy hand gestures that belie her farewell to performing in “Show Off”, one of the musical’s strongest numbers. Stuart Barkley’s Robert has a dazzling smile and a voice like honey. The role of Aldolpho, a caricature Latin lover, could easily misfire, but Dimitrios Stephanoy’s physical and vocal inventiveness (it’s funny every time he delivers his incredulous “Ewhaaaaaaaaat?”) are a hit. And as the gangster-bakers, Kai Bradbury and Nicholas Bradbury (no relation) manage to pull off both wicked puns and physical acrobatics with aplomb.

Brian Ball’s set celebrates the porous boundaries between the real and imaginary words, most notably in a filthy fridge door that opens onto a beaded curtain. There’s lots of sparkle in Chris Sinosich’s costumes, too; most successful are the many flapper dresses.

The Drowsy Chaperone does exactly what its protagonist wants theatre to do: it entertains mightily. Enjoy.