Lloyd Webber's rousing new take on 'The Wizard of Oz'

Dozens of writers, directors, filmmakers, and composers have adapted L. Frank Baum's The Wonderful Wizard of Oz for TV, stage, and film. I'm not going to pretend to know the differences that distinguish each version.

But I will say that Andrew Lloyd Webber's The Wizard of Oz, now at the Academy of Music, offers a visually satisfying, much fuller musical take on this staple of American culture.

Lloyd Webber based his show on the 1939 Judy Garland-driven film, keeping much of the plot and most of Harold Arlen and E.Y. "Yip" Harburg's songs intact. However, the humor his new book adds far exceeds the good-hearted fun of the 1939 movie. Two moments border on risqué (spoiler alert: Professor Marvel needs to delete his browser history), and the banter and retorts between Dorothy (Danielle Wade) and the Lion (Lee MacDougall), Tin Man (Mike Jackson), and Scarecrow (Jamie McKnight) evoke howls of laughter all evening.

Under director Jeremy Sams' direction, the show - thanks to this humor and the stunning multimedia projections re-created for the tour by Daniel Brodie - now appeals equally to the parents and kids in the audience.

Brodie's whirling visual design sets the tone for a visual feast: Robert Jones' costumes turn the flying monkeys into frightening, slithering gargoyles, and his towering, hyper-realistic sets shimmer under Hugh Vanstone's lighting. The citizens of Emerald City and Munchkinland slide across the stage to Arlene Phillips' fun, Charleston-inspired dancing, and the staging shifts from one spectacle-driven setting to the next.

Lloyd Webber's book expands on the backstories of Dorothy and the Wicked Witch of the West (Jacquelyn Piro Donovan); given the success of Wicked, this comes as no surprise. He gives each of them and the Wizard (Larry Herbert on Wednesday night, usually Jay Brazeau) additional songs.

Donovan storms through "Red Shoes Blues" with a tone of insistent malevolence, and the Wizard's Act One closer ("Bring Me the Broomstick") soars in its maniacal, commanding intensity.

The introduction and epilogue almost drag a bit, as Lloyd Webber tries to squeeze some extra syrup into an already heartwarming story. With his work, you get the schmaltz with the visual opulence, but I would have expected the same with his take on anything.

 Through June 8 at the Academy of Music, Broad and Locust Streets Tickets: $20-$115.50. 215-731-3333 or kimmelcenter.org/broadway.

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