The Unicorn’s Hands on a Hardbody gets high mileage from a low-octane event

The Unicorn Theatre would have a lot to celebrate no matter how it opened this, its 41st season. For one thing, it’s the Unicorn’s first season in a building that the company owns. And this opening show is a regional premiere, playing on the newly christened Levin Stage. But the best part might be that the production, the offbeat musical Hands on a Hardbody, is simply a great time.

Based on the 1997 cult-hit documentary of the same name, the musical follows 10 hardscrabble Texans engaged in a high-stakes endurance contest: Whoever can keep a hand on a truck the longest gets to drive it off the lot.

The truck in question is a candy-red Nissan, and each contestant sings about how winning it would turn his or her luck around (“If I Had This Truck”). Meanwhile, the sales staff at Floyd King Nissan feels a different set of pressures: The dealership isn’t moving enough units, and the contest is a last-ditch effort to nab publicity that might drive up sales.

The opening number sets the tone: snappy choreography (courtesy of Christina Burton, who takes some cues from line dancing), swelling harmonies, and hilarious visuals (thanks, especially, to outstanding character actor Martin Buchanan, whose elastic grimaces showcase the dental negligence of the working class).

The musical, much like its source material, is alternately bighearted and bizarre, the kind of thing you might expect when Pulitzer Prize–winning playwright Doug Wright, Phish frontman Trey Anastasio, and Bring It On: The Musical‘s Amanda Green get together.

Director Missy Koonce finds creative solutions for a script that might give a more timid director hives. Hardbody is tough to translate to the stage. Blocking is necessarily limited when actors have to keep one hand glued to the truck, and further dramatic challenges creep in around Act 2, when the contestants are ostensibly battling 80-plus hours of sleep deprivation. How do you build momentum and keep energy high when your players are literally falling asleep at the wheels?

Koonce relies on smart technical assists — dreamy light shifts let the cast break free without breaking the rules, and placing the truck on casters allows actors to easily spin it during dance numbers and alter the playing areas’ angles — but the play feeds off the strength of its actors. As the opening number decrees, “It’s a human-drama kind of thing,” and Hardbody‘s characters — and the Unicorn’s actors — keep us engaged.

The cast is competent across the board, but a few players make especially strong impressions. Newcomer Sam Salary is exceptional as cuddly contestant Ronald, whose candy-bar habit starts to bite back in the scorching Longview sun. Salary’s vocals on “My Problem Right There” and “Joy of the Lord” are as smooth as the hardbody’s paint job, and he and Victoria Barbee (Norma) harmonize well in the second act.

Cathy Barnett (as Janis) and Buchanan (as her cheerleading husband, Don) sidestep stereotypes while earning some of the show’s biggest laughs in their duet, the redneck valentine “If She Don’t Sleep.” Daniel Beeman and Sara Kennedy, as young lovers Greg and Kelli, are as strong vocally as they are physically. (Beeman is a particularly athletic dancer.) Shea Coffman (Chris) and Francisco Javier Villegas (Jesus) power through their muscular solos, and Jessalyn Kincaid has great energy and timing as stubborn sexpot Heather.

Vincent Onofrio Monachino lends his gruff radio voice to Frank, a comical on-air commentator with a limited jingle repertoire. Marc Liby is relaxed and relatable as J.D., the oldest competitor and a downtrodden Everyman. And no one can sleaze up a production quite like Matthew James McAndrews (as desperate car salesman Mike).

Tim Scott makes the most of Benny, the fan favorite who anchored the 1997 documentary with his Buddha-lite koans on mastering mind, body and hardbody. Wright keeps some of the mysticism in the musical — Benny mines strategy from The Art of War and plays head games with competitors — but the playwright’s vision is of a man more aggressive, desperate and not a little racist. It’s a sensible move to keep the conflict bubbling, but it blunts our investment in his eventual fate.

The slick production design boosts the contest’s energy. Alex Perry’s lights are sometimes dealership-bright, and his scenery festoons the stage with the spangled reds and blues of the Texas flag. Georgianna Londre Buchanan’s costumes hit the right regional notes with oversized belt buckles, embellished gingham blouses, and Kmart-issue jorts. Sound designer Rustin R. Bolejack balances mic levels expertly for each actor (though even he can’t always tamp down Coffman’s bigger-than-Texas belt in group numbers). Musical director Angie Benson conducts and pounds keys with equal fervor.

The songs are witty and Broadway-buoyant, even if they don’t always thematically hit the mark. The script is taut enough that we’re willing to indulge one or two detours like “Used to Be,” a message song that doesn’t quite fit. Hands on a Hardbody succeeds as a kaleidoscopic character study, and Wright, Anastasio and Green work best when they avoid distilling sentiments on materialism and the American dream from the mash.

The show’s strange charm comes, instead, from its ability to wring authentic connection and emotional power from semi-glib lyrics such as If you love something/Keep your hands on it. This musical is a lovable oddball, equal parts exaggerated irony and warm sincerity. It’s also the most fun I’ve had at the theater in recent memory. Koonce and the Unicorn have invigorated an old cliché. Everything’s bigger in Texas — including, apparently, the musicals.