In Kokandy Productions’ Midwest premiere of the alluring musical “Alice by Heart,” fantastical characters from Lewis Carroll’s “Alice in Wonderland” emerge like specters from within a war-ravaged London.
Set against the brutal Blitz that saw German bombs raining down on London in the early years of World War II, the 95-minute musical at the Chopin Theatre weaves an intertwined tale of two Alices: one from Carroll’s famous stories, the other hunkered down in the London underground, hoping to survive the bombings while desperately seeking escape in her battered copy of “Alice in Wonderland.”
As the production veers from drama to fantasia and back, co-directors Derek Van Barham (who also choreographs) and Brittney Brown shape a sonically gorgeous and visually beguiling musical that delivers a rueful meditation on grief, loss and the ruthless nature of time.
If that sounds grim, know that “Alice by Heart” is also about full-throttle joy and the crucial importance of celebrating life itself, even when — especially when — it feels like it could end at any moment.
As he did with the Tony-winning “Spring Awakening,” composer Duncan Sheik instills “Alice by Heart” with an intricate, multi-style score. There are raging rockers alongside anthemic ballads and wall-of-sound vocals.
Music director Heidi Joosten (who leads and plays keyboards in a small-but-mighty orchestra composed of Sophie Creutz on reeds, drummer Craig Buckner, cellist Rachel Schuldt and guitarist Samuel Stein) sends the ravishing score coursing through the Chopin Theatre’s basement space.
As for the plot, it grows curiouser and curiouser. The narrative centers on Alice Spencer (Caitlyn Cerza, who also plays Alice in Wonderland), as she clings to her dying tubercular best friend Alfred (Joe Giovannetti, who also plays the perpetually out-of-time White Rabbit) in London’s tube tunnels. Everyone seeking refuge down alongside the duo is in varying degrees of war-induced trauma and shock.
Like Alice and Alfred, everyone is double-cast: Every Londoner has not just a doppelganger but an alter ego in Wonderland.
Schoolboy Nigel (Ezra Borrero, also the enigmatic Dormouse), babbles frantically about a test he has to take at noon. A belligerent Harold Pudding (Will Lidke, who also growls with menace as the Mad Hatter) raves about horrors only he can see. A nameless Red Cross nurse (Niki-Charisse Franco, who also plays a ferociously imperious Queen of Hearts) is overworked to the outermost limit of compassion.
As the sirens wail and the lights tremble, Alice Spencer cajoles the others into acting out “Alice in Wonderland,” certain all will be well if they can just escape into her beloved book.
As fictional and historical narratives are braided together, Carroll’s playful verse speaks with pointed relevance to both the circumstances of Wonderland and real life.
When the White Rabbit sings of time’s relentless passage in “Still,” Giovannetti merges exquisite vocals with an undertow of melancholy to maximum emotional impact. When the White Rabbit dourly frets about running out of time, Alfred’s fatal prognosis gives the words an urgent, anxious immediacy.
And when the Cheshire Cat (Mizha Lee Overn) purrs “we’re all mad here,” the words ring true for both the denizens of the Mad Hatter’s belligerent tea party and the anguished Londoners hoping to survive the Blitz.
The ensemble is at its strongest when in song. With the aching opener “West of Words,” Cerza sets the vocal standard while evoking worlds that defy verbal description, be they on earth or in the imagination.
“Chillin’ With Regrets’’ is a trippy showstopper featuring the whiskey-over-gravel vocals of Elliot Esquivel as an unforgettable hookah/gas mask-wielding Caterpillar. The number has pure Jefferson Airplane circa “White Rabbit ” vibes, Esquivel’s slinky, sloe-eyed insect urging all to join him in creepy crawly oblivion.
As the monstrous Jabberwocky, Darian Goulding (he also plays London physician Dr. Butridge) brings an outsize, phantasmagoric menace in “Brillig Braelig,” a number about a grotesque creature of massive malintent. Goulding nails both the humor and the horror.
With “The Key,” Cerza leads the ensemble into a full-force reckoning of the heart, the number ending on a majestic surge of a capella vocals worthy of an amphitheater. She also shines on “I’ve Shrunk Enough,” turning the number into a manifesto.
Playing out on G. “Max” Maxim’s minimalist set — essentially a ramp, a series of platforms and several subtle banks of mirrors — “Alice by Heart” isn’t especially subtle. But as Alfred/the White Rabbit sings of time’s relentless passage in “Still,” one thing becomes clear: “Alice By Heart” is time well-spent.
