[Woody’s [rating: 3.5]

When you come right down to it, I’m generally a non-believer.

I haven’t believed in the Tooth Fairy for a long time. Ditto the Easter Bunny and the Energizer Bunny. Double-ditto unicorns and centaurs.

Santa Claus? You must be kidding.

But ask me about a bumbling bozo brought up by elves at the North Pole who reunites in Manhattan with his human birth father and I’ll tell you, with a giant smile, that I wanna believe, brother, I wanna believe.

That’s because Buddy, hero of the gag-filled “Elf the Musical,” is so bouncy, so entertaining, so goofy.

Eric Williams, who plays Buddy in the touring company production at the SHN Curran Theatre in San Francisco, makes it virtually impossible not to like the character or believe in his good-natured, innocent spirit.

But to make sure my senior reaction paralleled those of theatergoers a few decades younger, I checked with the three kids I chaperoned to opening night.

Hannah, my 7-year-old granddaughter, was concise: “I liked the play better than the movie.”

She was referring, of course, to the 2003 comedy-fantasy Jon Favreau directed (starring Will Ferrell as Buddy).

She found the main character in the show “really funny,” but questioned the tale’s modernity. “I don’t believe that Santa has an iPad!” she exclaimed afterwards.

At least one urbane allusion had flown over her head.

Santa supposedly had stopped using reindeer after complaints from PETA, People for the Ethical Treatment of Animals.

Questioned Hannah, “What’s a PETA? I know what a pita chip is, but what’s a PETA?”

Hudson, son of Hannah’s mom’s partner, was astute enough at 13 to discern minor blips. “Buddy forgot to button his vest,” he said about one of the many quick costume changes, “and it was obvious when he fixed it.”

He liked the show over all, though, especially its colorful costumes and multiple painting-like sets — despite finding the Buddy character “a little too dumb.”

But he also thought “some of the language might be a little harsh for little kids.”

Hudson’s younger brother, Kota, 11, clearly was the most sanguine of the trio. He appreciated 100 percent “how they integrated the musical numbers with the story,”

I loved watching my young companions’ reactions as much as I seeing the prime performers — all of whom were first-rate (most outstanding, besides Williams, were Harper S. Brady, who played Buddy’s half-brother, Michael, and Lexie Dorsett Sharp as Buddy’s stepmother, Emily).

Brady, who alternates with Tyler Altomari in the role, and Sharp were marvelous in two potent duets — “I’ll Believe in You” and “There Is a Santa Claus.”

Also superb was Maggie Anderson as Jovie, Buddy’s love interest. Her comic solo, “Never Fall in Love (with an Elf),” was brilliant.

A show-stopper.

The two-hour Christmasy musical will end its short local run Dec. 28, although it could easily become a perennial.

Because it oozes with charm.

Its 14-person chorus is as perpetually energetic as the aforementioned bunny, palpable in a scene of multiple dancing Santas and another when the elf-actors dance on their knees and create a Rockettes-like sequence.

Thanks to the combined imaginations of choreographer Connor Gallagher and director Sam Scalamonai.

Upbeat music by Matthew Sklar, lyrics by Chad Beguelin and a nine-piece orchestra conducted by Roberto Sinha help keep things blissful, with drummer/percussionist Aaron Drescher offering up the most perfectly timed, dramatic instrumentation.

For adults such as me, the show — which debuted on Broadway in 2010 — contains just the right amount of clever cynicism.

Such as when one department store Santa complains that today’s kids seem compelled to text while sitting on his lap.

Some adults, however, might prefer to take the family brood to “Nutcracker” again. Or re-read David Sedaris’ tale of his being a Macy’s elf, “Santaland Diaries.”

Some undoubtedly will pay attention to the youngsters.

The 15-minute intermission, Kota gushed, “felt so long — I couldn’t wait for it to end so the show could start again. ‘Elf’ made it onto the charts of my favorite plays. It was quite delightful. I’d see it again in a heartbeat.”

“Elf the Musical” plays at the SHN Curran Theatre, 445 Geary St., San Francisco, through Dec. 28. Evening performances, Sundays, 5:30 p.m.; Tuesdays through Saturdays, 7:30 p.m. Matinees, Sundays, noon; Mondays through Wednesdays, Fridays, Saturdays, 2 p.m. Tickets: $45 to $160 (subject to change). Information: (888) 746-1799 or shnsf.com.

[Woody’s [rating: 2.5]

The woman sitting behind me kept laughing so loudly I thought she’d wet herself.

She was an exception.

The woman sitting next to me barely smiled throughout “The Complete History of Comedy (abridged).”

Most of the Marin Theatre Company audience, including me, was somewhere in between.

Which translated on opening night to laughing aloud more than a few times, grinning a lot, and occasionally yawning at professorial explanations that obstructed the rapid-fire delivery of punch-lines and screwball, high-energy performances.

The three-man Reduced Shakespeare Company troupe emulates the way-back zaniness of the Ritz Brothers, Marx Brothers and Three Stooges as well as the way-way-back cerebral intricacies of Chekov and Shakespeare.

They insert pie-in-the-face, rubber chicken and Muppet-like gags.

They deploy limitless props.

Austin Tichenor, a classically trained actor who sports pants intentionally too short, and Reed Martin, a former circus clown who wears his head without hair, are the show’s writer-director-actors.

Dominic Conti, a physically flexible actor who sports cutoff shorts, fills out the trio.

“The Complete History of Comedy (abridged)” starts with the ostensible origin of the genre, a cavewoman who ludicrously distorts the birthing process.

But it doesn’t proceed chronologically.

Instead, the speedy 90-minute romp divides itself into chunks — about clowning, Commedia dell’arte, violence, fooles (ancient and current), the best and worst all-time comedians (with slides and snide commentary) — cemented by a series of marvelous puns that draw loud groans from an appreciative crowd.

Add to that the references, beyond caustically skewering religious and political hypocrisy, to virtually everything relating to comedy.

Like George Carlin and his seven dirty words, minstrel shows, Monty Python and its dead parrot skit, Sigmund Freud and his psychological deconstruction of jokes.

The threesome acts out an Elizabethan rendition of the classic Abbott and Costello “Who’s on First?” routine, presents a two-man Greek chorus, and offers up a solo Abraham Lincoln in the guise of a stand-up comic.

Wigs are plentiful.

Coupled with enough pieces of fabric to facilitate scores of instant costume changes.

So much happens so fast it’s easy to miss something amusing. But you can be reasonably sure something amusing will come around the bend in another split second.

The funniest bit, in my estimation, was a look at the U.S. Supreme Court with each performer manipulating two puppets — vigorously.

Except the one representing Clarence Thomas, who, like in reality, sleeps through the proceedings.

Close behind was a segment in which two theatergoers were dragged onstage, then basically left to their own devices to provide sound effects.

Their lack of skill ended up being hilarious.

Squeezed between the infinite jokes and sketches were a handful of quick but serious moments — such as that provided by an archetypal character, Rambozo the clown, derivative of both Sun Tzu’s “The Art of War” and a 1986 antiwar song by Dead Kennedys.

The Reduced Shakespeare Company began in Marin in 1981 as a pass-the-hat troupe at the Renaissance Pleasure Faire in Novato.

Its first actual production was, fittingly, “The Complete Works of William Shakespeare (abridged).”

The current original production is the company’s ninth.

Some, I believe, were more successful than this — “The Bible: The Complete Word of God (abridged)” and “The Complete History of America (abridged),” for instance.

The company, which works exceedingly hard onstage, has publicized the phrase “Saving the world one joke at a time.” But it tries to cover too much territory in “The Complete History of Comedy (abridged),” resulting in the show being slightly uneven.

Maybe that’s why, in a theater in which standing ovations are de rigueur, it drew only moderate applause at evening’s end.

“The Complete History of Comedy (abridged)” plays at the Marin Theatre Company, 397 Miller Ave., Mill Valley, through Dec. 21. Performances Tuesdays and Thursdays through Saturdays, 8 p.m.; Wednesdays, 7:30 p.m.; Sundays, 7 p.m. Matinees, Thursdays, 1 p.m.; Saturdays and Sundays, 2 p.m. Tickets: $20 to $58 (subject to change). Information: (415) 388-5208 or marintheatre.org.

 

[Woody’s [rating: 4]

When it comes to worshipping at the altar of pop-rock singer-composer Cyndi Lauper, I’m a late latecomer.

At the height of her popularity in the 1980s, I wasn’t particularly taken with her voice, her compositions or her rebel-punk image.

I wasn’t even enthralled with her first big hit, “Girls Just Want to Have Fun,” a feminist anthem she reconstructed from Robert Hazard’s original male anthem.

But, then, I’m a boy.

However, when my wife and I saw Lauper perform at the Black & White Ball, the symphony’s fundraiser, on the streets of San Francisco in 2012, we became fans.

And now, having gone to the SHN Orpheum Theatre to hear the LGBT activist’s latest tunes in “Kinky Boots,” which won six 2013 Tonys (including best original musical), our delayed adoration has grown even more.

Others obviously share the attraction.

Those who hand out the Tonys, for example. They gave her one for writing last year’s best original score, making her the first woman to win that honor solo.

The 61-year-old also won a Grammy for this year’s album of the show.

The musical, an upbeat two-hour-plus toe-tapper overflowing with humor, proves that — contrary to Nancy Sinatra’s chartbuster — some boots are made for dancing rather than walking.

Even if you’re hesitant about a show that spotlights a flowing white gown on a man — plus numerous high heels, sequins, feathers and cross-dressers — you’re apt to enjoy this one.

Especially its poignant everyman ballads that mirror difficult relationships between parents and offspring.

The main theme is acceptance of differences (and getting past stereotypes and bias, despite the show being filled with stereotypes and clichés)  — and finding forgiveness.

In San Francisco, where the opening night audience was about 90 percent un-straight, those notions drew mammoth applause and cheers.

Our seats, in fact, happened to be surrounded by drag queens in full regalia, including glitter, whiteface, battery-lighted fuzzy hats and, naturally, high boots.

They made me think that, although the local run is scheduled to end Dec. 28, the musical potentially could sell out in the Bay Area forever.

Its mass appeal may have exceptions, though. Like the four elderly ladies sitting in the rear with dour expressions opening night that may have indicated they’d bought tickets to the wrong show.

The predictable storyline of “Kinky Boots,” based on the 2005 British film with the same title, has Charlie Price, a young Northampton owner of a failing shoe factory, getting help from Lola, a transvestite cabaret star.

They start producing tall high-heeled boots aimed for cross-dressers, so they must appeal to a wearer’s feminine side while supporting a man’s weight.

Kyle Taylor Parker is astounding as Lola, evoking sympathy and compassion while singing in multiple registers, and Steven Booth displays passion, vulnerability and power in the role of Charlie.

Although Parker’s diva rendition of  “Hold Me in Your Heart,” is a showstopper, so is a comedic number, “The History of Wrong Guys,” performed by Lindsay Nicole Chambers as Lauren, an assembly worker with a crush on Charlie.

The raucous “Sex Is in the Heel,” featuring Lola and six backups, The Angels, also is a major crowd-pleaser.

“Everybody Say Yeah” is yet another winner. It’s a gospel-like rocker highlighted by performers dancing, sitting and reclining on a moving — and separated — assembly line.

But the song that touched my heart and sensibilities the most was a tender duet between Lola and Charlie, “Not My Father’s Son.”

Lauper’s lyrics, by the way, are inspirational spirit-boosters — for drag queens, heterosexuals and virtually anyone with a heartbeat.

They can encapsulate significance in a few words.

• “You can’t move on if you’re still in the past.”

• “There’s a roomful of people who need to feel normal — comparatively speaking.”

• “You’re in my fantasy.”

The book by Harvey Fierstein is alternately funny and sensitive, albeit a tad preachy.

Jerry Mitchell deserves plaudits, too, for his direction and vigorous choreography — including a distinctive slo-mo boxing ring scene.

Still, “Kinky Boots” isn’t for everyone.

Those uncomfortable with not hearing every lyric enunciated perfectly, or having to decipher a makeshift English accent, or with in the company of transvestites or others different from themselves are advised to stay home.

For the rest, it’s pretty much a guaranteed evening of good feelings, glitz ‘n’ glamor.

“Kinky Boots” will play at the SHN Orpheum Theatre, 1192 Market St., San Francisco, through Dec. 28. Night performances Tuesdays through Saturdays, 8 p.m. Matinees, Wednesdays, Saturdays and Sundays, 2 p.m.; Special performance, Friday, Dec. 26 at 2 p.m. Tickets: $75 to $300 (subject to change). Information: (888) 746-1799 or shnsf.com.

[Woody’s [rating: 5]

Not everything Bobby McFerrin does musically is a 10. Once in a rare while he descends to a nine and a half.

In 1984, my wife heard a solo cut from his second album on jazz radio. She rushed out to buy “The Voice,” then made me listen.

I became an instant acolyte.

Soon, we caught him live in a Noe Valley church.

He vocalized unusual but pleasing sounds I hadn’t heard and, adding depth and texture, rhythmically pounded his chest in what I didn’t know would be recognized as beatboxing.

Humor was his sidekick.

Later we heard him reimagine all the “The Wizard of Oz” sounds and voices, and later yet watched him during a San Francisco rehearsal of Garrison Keillor’s “Prairie Home Companion.”

Clearly we’d found a musical magician, a guy with a four octave vocal range able to transform his environment with improvisational genius.

Through the years he stretched his talent, his genres and his venues.

He won 10 Grammys and, with “Don’t Worry, Be Happy,” reached the top of the pop charts. He collaborated with classical superstar Yo-Yo Ma and jazz hall-of-famer Chick Corea. He assembled an improv vocal troupe, Voicestra. And he conducted the New York Philharmonic, the Philadelphia Orchestra, the Chicago Symphony and the Vienna Philharmonic.

His conducting debut, with the San Francisco Symphony, took place on his 40th birthday, 25 years ago.

I watched him conduct that orchestra (which is always splendid) and sing George Gershwin this month.

His hair and dreadlocks now are tinged with white. But his talents haven’t aged; they have, rather, expanded exponentially.

His concerts include frolicking galore. He likes to tell people he’s a graduate of MSU — “Making Stuff Up”

McFerrin bent his “Porgy and Bess” set, for instance, to include “I Got Rhythm,” a Gershwin tune that was never part of the jazz opera score; and an improv medley with “A Horse with No Name,” a countrified falsetto duet featuring him and his bassist, Jeff Carney, and a free-form “I Want to Thank You for Letting Me Be Myself Again,” none of which bore any resemblance to Gershwin.

He also playfully superimposed a British accent on “A Foggy Day.”

Periodically switching between registers to create polyphonic effects, McFerrin ultimately managed to saturate the set with “Porgy” tunes based on Gil Evans’ arrangements for Miles Davis: “Summertime,” “It Ain’t Necessarily So” and “A Woman Is a Sometime Thing.”

His superb backup trio, functioning sans symphony, showcased pianist-arranger Gil Goldstein, who’d been an Evans’ protégé, and drummer Louis Cato.

McFerrin, who fingered the mic as if playing the clarinet (his first childhood instrument), also injected a screechy comedic voice that reminded me of Flip Wilson’s character Geraldine.

But “Porgy and Bess” has a special place in the singer’s heart.

His father, a baritone, was first African-American man to sing New York City’s Metropolitan Opera. The senior McFerrin also sang the “Porgy” role in Otto Preminger’s 1958 film, for lip-synching actor Sidney Poitier.

As a child, Bobby McFerrin was inundated with the music of Count Basie, Duke Ellington, Marvin Gaye, Led Zeppelin and Sergio Mendes, then the Beatles and Miles Davis — all overlaid with Verdi and other classical strains.

Plus Gershwin.

So it figures that using his voice as a multi-faceted instrument on “Rhapsody in Blue” might feel natural.

Ditto his conducting “An American in Paris.”

McFerrin’s audience was diverse in ethnicity. And age.

Within seconds, I spied an old man hobbling on crutches and a young girl hobbling on what obviously were her first high heels.

The gender split seemed equal.

I know not what occurred in the ladies room, but several guys were singing his encore — “Our Love Is Here to Stay,” Gershwin’s final composition — at the urinals after the two-hour show.

McFerrin’s been quoted saying, “I try not to ‘perform’ onstage. I try to sing the way I sing in my kitchen.”

He pulls it off.

Onstage at Davies Hall, he appeared at ease. And because he was having fun, his attitude spread over the audience.

Which gave him a standing ovation.

Of course.

Upcoming pop performance at Davies, Grove Street (between Van Ness and Franklin), San Francisco, will include “A New Year’s Event with Seth MacFarlane” Dec. 31, and “Patti LuPone: Far Away Places”(without symphony) Feb. 23. Information: (415) 864-6400 or www.sfsymphony.org.