The holiday show at The Court Theatre has always been one of the highlights of the year, when music and colour and dance unfailingly bring us a heady cocktail of theatrical delight to set the tone for the season’s wider festivities. Luhrmann’s film of 1992 will also have set hopes high for more of the screen’s same humour and outrageous exuberance, with the bonus of some fresh music, as well as marking The Court’s final production in The Shed before its return to central Christchurch.

The opening night audience found plenty to applaud.

In terms of storyline and structure, the show, though studded with moments of tension, is unremarkable. An emerging young dancer overcomes various impediments to find both recognition for his creative talent beyond ‘strictly ballroom’ rules and a fine love match with the girl who has her own Cinderella story. We are not there to pass a critique on structure, though. The show is overflowing with huge entertainment value in its flamboyant tackling of numerous dance genres and uncomplicated dramatic roles, filling out the world of the Kendall Dance Studio. ‘Competition,’ under the strict national rules of the National Australian Federation of Dance is its driving motivation and the Pan Pacific Grand Prix the ultimate prize. On success hangs the fate of the studio.

Our star couple, though equally obsessive, are driven by purer creative motives. Their quest is for the dance that comes from the heart, where technique is the servant of something finer. Their inspiration comes not from glitz and glamour (though there’s still plenty of that), but from the visceral conviction of the flamenco-inspired Paso Doble, danced without the trappings of studio or fancy gear.

We are treated, then, to plenty of management interference and parental pleas, all served up with robust Aussie humour and the inimitable zest we hoped for in a whirlwind of short scenes, which nevertheless probably worked better for film. On the live stage the effect is sometimes dizzying.

Production values themselves bear this out with set design from Daniel Williams that uses a wide range of staging techniques from gliding panels to projection, stages and light-studded frames, so that only the signature swagged crimson curtains seem to have lasting significance. Costume from the same designer fills the space with joyful creativity, almost too much to take in.

The challenge of bringing 26 musical numbers (some of them new) into brilliant and coherent stage life is clearly one that has been relished by the director and his whole creative team, but moment to moment in the theatre, it is the assured presence of musical director and conductor, Richard Marrett, and his orchestra, which powers us along and fuels the talented dancers to fashion the magic. Lighting from Grant Robertson completes the picture.

This is not to mention the large and energetic cast which serves the show so passionately. In an OTT world, the accomplished work of the romantic leads, Rania Potaka-Osborne as Scott Hastings, the rebel dancer, and Lucy Sutcliffe as Fran, shy wannabe turned triumphant partner, is outstanding.

Their able supporting cast, some sporting dreadful wigs, an entertainment in themselves, is strongly led by Roy Snow as tenacious studio boss Barry Fife. Both sets of parents give us decided portraits to explain and underline events. Jonathan Martin and Jessie Lawrence as the Hastings couple and Camila Leal Rossi with Noah Missell for Fran’s folk, point up the perceived deficit with commercial dance competition.

The full treatment for this half-familiar show is a big ask. Director and company have responded generously.

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