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Everyone has his or her guilty pleasures. The 1980 throwback tap musical 42nd Street is one of mine. Ordinarily, I’m a lover of darker treats, dour Sondheimesque themes, and unhappily-ever-afters. I don’t know why, but I’m a sucker for this backstage tale. Maybe it’s colcored by my having seen the original production and remembered the famous tale of its opening night, when consummate showman David Merrick, desperate for a hit, announced the death of the famed Director/Choreographer Gower Champion on opening night during the curtain call. Ultimately, it’s more about my being a romantic-at-heart; the story of Peggy Sawyer, the über-talented cutie who goes out there a chorus girl but comes back a star, reminds me of my own showbiz dreams. That’s why I always look forward to seeing it mounted. Broadway Palm Dinner Theatre is wisely producing it around their ever-profitable New Year’s Eve. Of course, this is a show that should – no, must – have triple threats all around and glitziness to propel it. On the show’s preview night (no one had mentioned to me that they’d changed their schedule to open a day later because of the holidays), the negatives pretty much balanced the positives of the production. Smiling feet and super tapping gave while lack of coordination and character connections gave away.

The problems do not lie in director and chorographer Ann Nieman’s overall choices. A veteran of umpteen productions of the show, she has come up with some clever ways to make 21 people on the smallish stage shine. The dancing is peppy, the singing strong, and the stage pictures as dazzling as possible for this dinner theatre production. The actors look like they’re having fun, as the smiles, jokes, and choices are broad. The ladies are always in step, though the same can often not be said for the gents. The two main leads, Jennifer Cameron’s Peggy and Dan Schiff’s Julian Marsh are strong. But there are a lot of little things that just don’t work.

First and foremost, Cameron is two thirds of a triple threat. She has a great voice and excellent dance skills. However, her grin is a little too rictus and unnatural when she goes into her dance. Also, the connection between her and pretty much everyone else, most especially Schiff, the most important relationship, is barely there. Another strong singer and dancer, acting is also not the strong suit of Shaun Patrick Moe as the wolfish juvenile tenor Billy Lawlor. For a show that uses broad strokes, his are broader still. The best all-around offering, though, comes from the diva-driven performance of Carolyn McPhee as the ego-driven Dorothy Brock. She has the role down pat.

Paul Bernier is not a strong singer and dancer, but as the male part of the comedic relief duo of Bert and Maggie, his strong comedic timing more than makes up for it. I am a huge fan of Elizabeth Loos, so it pains me to point out that she doesn’t keep up her end of the bargain as Maggie. It’s hard not to think of the triumphs she’s given at BPDT in the past and not compare them to the phoned-in performance she offers here. Lauran Stanis’ Anytime Annie and C.K. Edwards’ Andy Lee are treats leading the often enjoyable, sometimes misstepping ensemble.

Unable to create the kind of spectacle a larger theatre could, Rob McKercher’s set and Russell A. Thompson’s lighting designs find ways to appear big and give optimal space to the dancers. John White’s costumes are broad stroke creations of the era with a few standouts (especially for McPhee). JR McAlexander’s seven-piece orchestra once again sounds larger and more lush than its numbers would indicate.