STAGE REVIEW : On a Wing and a Prairie : This Children’s Play About a Troubled Condor Family Soars on Many Plains, but Stumbles in Others

BUENA PARK —  Out on the prairie, strange things are happening. Strange, relevant things. Certain small rodents have discovered solar power, and they’re recycling like mad, thanks to the garbage we humans leave around. They’re also pretty good little psychologists: They’re setting a dysfunctional family straight. A condor family, that is.

It’s the Knott’s Berry Farm theater extravaganza for kids, “Peril on the Prairie,” an all-singing, all dancing, Broadway-style musical about environment-friendly prairie dogs, a romantically inclined marmot and a couple of odd birds.

The 30-minute show opened Tuesday in the 2,100-seat Good Time Theatre at Knott’s and will run there several times daily.

Is it good? Yes and no. The lavish subterranean tunnel set, filled with such giant recyclables as batteries, a calculator and a screwdriver, is outstanding. Tom Cluff is responsible for that, as well as for the mood lighting, which includes dramatic blackouts.

Most of the cast is fine--it features Los Angeles Music Center Opera singer Scott Watanabe as marmot Digger O’Burrows and the full-voiced Catherine Coates, who plays his love interest and head prairie dog architect, Chris Wren.

Some of Jeff Langley’s score has a familiar, Broadway stage kind of musical lift; the plaintive love ballad “Why Bother?” is one you remember as you leave the theater. And the biggest technical wonder--a comic, automated Gargantuan condor, with rolling eyes and eye-popping wingspan--is thoroughly satisfying.

But . . . there is also director/lyricist Amanda McTigue’s script that self-destructs toward the end, some banal lyrics, and an ill-conceived character that seriously diminishes what could otherwise be a dandy show.

Costume designers Pam Tallman and Abel Zeballos have put the actors in bulky, furry prairie dog suits, then topped those with shorts, vests and skirts. The result is colorful, if a little bizarre, but the bulk doesn’t enhance Julie Owens’ unexciting choreography.

This is the same show that previewed last May, briefly, but technical and production problems promptly closed it for a month of fixes. More time might be in order; there is generous potential here.

Everything works pretty well at first, even though it’s disappointing that the recycling element has more to do with scenery and props than with the story. That begins with the prairie dogs’ anxiety about a condor egg’s precarious perch in a tree above them. (The giant tree branch and egg loom directly over the audience.)

The condor parents seem to have deserted their hapless offspring. It’s a moral dilemma. The birds have been known to eat prairie dogs, dead and dying ones, anyway. Should the rodents help or leave the egg to perish?

The self-pitying condor dad appears on the scene (and what an entrance he makes). His wife, Rhonda, has left him, and he’s stuck with this egg. “It’s just that sometimes I feel a little sad; nobody told me what it would be like to be a dad,” he sings.

With the help of audience volunteers, the egg is rescued, somewhat anticlimactically, and falls into a giant box of tissues. But when the egg “hatches,” it’s a giant disappointment. Marc Marger plays the baby condor, dressed in what looks like a huge pink rubber glove and surfer shorts. He uses words such as dude and gnarly and is light-years away from the spirit and the look of the show.

No one seems comfortable from then on. Even the song that Marger sings is a muddle, as though this final part of the show was just tacked on the day before.

Then the group reprise of the lovely “Why Bother?” raises the level of the performance again and hints at the terrific show that’s hiding underneath the flaws; it deserves a chance to shine.

For inspiration, the show’s creators might take a look at what’s going on over in the Wilderness Dance Hall. There, a very different theater show for children is getting laughs, enthusiastic participation and heartfelt applause. Simplicity is the key.

In the Dance Hall’s barn-like setting, the Imagination Machine, a professional troupe of four young adults, performs tall tales of the Old West. Using a few props and a minimal set, the self-assured cast begins with a familiar story such as “Pecos Bill” and then romps into short stories written by elementary school children earlier this year.

The 25-minute show ends with a partially improvised tale, using audience suggestions. It’s comic, clever and expertly executed.

“Peril on the Prairie”: Chevrolet Geo Good Time Theatre; 2, 4:30 and 6:30 p.m. daily, except Monday and Friday. “The Imagination Machine”: Wilderness Dance Hall; 12:45 p.m., 1:45 and 2:45 daily, except Friday. Both at Knott’s Berry Farm, 8039 Beach Blvd., Buena Park, (714) 220-5200. Park admission: adults, $21.95; children, ages 3-11, $9.95; senior citizens, $14.95.