Prescience and nostalgia in musical "Bye Bye Birdie"

Elvis Presley returned to the United States from his stint in the U.S. Army on March 2, 1960. That was about six weeks before "Bye Bye Birdie" — a musical inspired by his induction into military service in 1958 — opened on Broadway.

When Elvis was drafted at the peak of his early career, the event helped take the air out of the first wave of rock 'n' roll. It was almost nature's way of making room for the next wave (the Beatles, etc.), which ultimately helped rock and its fans grow up a bit.

That's fitting: "Birdie," despite the rockabilly antics of titular pop star Conrad Birdie, is really about growing up in all kinds of ways. The musical seems cheerfully prescient, even though the musical comedy — with music by Charles Strouse ("Annie"), lyrics by Lee Adams ("Golden Boy") and a book by Michael Stewart ("Hello, Dolly!") — is so far past its original topicality it now glows with sweet nostalgia.

The exhilarating production of "Birdie" currently at Village Theatre gets the maturity point across amiably and tenderly. Conrad (a very funny Dan Connor), a lunkhead with magnetic appeal, is a hub around which sundry characters find themselves stalled in their personal lives.

Conrad, a rock sensation, has received his draft notice, creating a commercial crisis. His anxious manager, Albert Peterson (Jason Collins, a satiny romantic lead and great physical comic), and the latter's long-suffering secretary and would-be fiancée, Rosie Alvarez (Stacey Harris, winsome and witty), arrange for Conrad to perform one last hit song on Ed Sullivan's variety show, then kiss a randomly selected female fan.

Conrad's departure will free Albert to marry Rosie and pursue his dream of becoming a teacher. Sounds good, but Albert's formidable mother (Laura Kenny) still has her boy on a short tether and dismisses Rosie as a Latina spinster.

The chosen fan is teenager Kim MacAfee (Cara Rudd) in Sweet Apple, Ohio. Her imminent smooch disrupts a romance with steady beau Hugo Peabody (John Scott), and upsets her dad (John X. Deveney), who is not yet ready for his little girl to become worldly.

All of this shakes out over multiple, delightful numbers ("Put On a Happy Face," "An English Teacher"), urged on by hardy, industrious dancers (choreographed by director Steve Tomkins) and graced by Robert A. Dahlstrom's inspired, sometimes lovely scenic design.

It's fun rediscovering the script's small trove of now-ancient cultural references. One joke intentionally confusing Italian dictator Benito Mussolini with film director Roberto Rossellini gets a laugh from those with very long memories.

Tom Keogh: tomwkeogh@yahoo.com