The 101 Dalmatians Musical

To say that Rachel York appears larger than life as Cruella de Vil in The 101 Dalmatians Musical, the highly enjoyable musicalization of Dodie Smith’s classic children’s novel now in the midst of its national tour, is an understatement. Costume designer Robert Morgan has hoisted her and all the other human “pets” up on stilt-shoes – BT McNicholl’s book cleverly assumes a dog’s point of view -so that they tower over the canines in the cast. (Some of the latter are human imposters, sporting splattered tennis whites; others are genuine quadrupeds.)

To call York’s portrayal “cartoonish” constitutes highest praise. Maximizing her magnificent voice and capturing every sadistic quirk and sneer of one of the scariest villainesses ever created, York creates a Cruella who’s quite an impressive piece of work.

Given Cruella’s overtly murderous agenda, you might want to think twice before carting any really young ones along to see this show. However, children old enough to distinguish between reality and storytelling will not only be sure to lap it up; they’ll have the added pleasure of seeing a corps of skilled children onstage depicting the litter that Cruella covets as wardrobe accessories. These kids are more than capable of meeting the considerable demands set by McNicholl and composer Dennis De Young and choreographer Warren Carlyle. But they also seem natural and engaging.

All the adults, human and canine, measure up well against the high bar set by York – especially James Ludwig as expectant father Pongo, whose alternately anxious and excited song “World’s Greatest Dad” is not only touching but downright revelatory in its insights. As Pongo’s “Missus,” Catia Ojeda seems a plucky good sport, and she does a lovely job with a late-show number, “My Sweet Child” — basically an esteem-booster for a self-doubting offspring. This song has the makings of a standard, unlike a more nakedly ambitious candidate, “One True Love,” sung by canine wet nurse Perdita (Julie Foldesi).

As Nanny Cook (who is perhaps romantically linked with the mannish Nanny Butler), Erin Maguire enjoys a terrifically antic duet with York, “Hail to the Chef.” Michael Thomas Holmes and Robert Anthony Jones as Cruella’s henchman, Jasper and Jinx — both classic bumblers — pull off a delightfully music-hallish comic duet of their own, “Having the Crime of Our Lives.”

Jerry Zaks’ sleek direction and Heidi Ettinger’s easily morphing, perspective-distorting sets keep the story moving briskly along. The stage picture presented by Cruella’s fiery comeuppance is especially striking, but it can’t hold a candle to the final scene, in which various Dalmatian superstars (the canine corps consist mostly of rescue dogs available for adoption post-run) pose a distinct threat to the stagehands’ union. The thrilled gasps that invariably accompany the dogs’ appearances — hitherto, mostly mad dashes across the stage — here melt into a huge communal “awwww.”