Frank Abagnale Jr. stole millions of dollars in the 1960s and ‘70s, kiting checks and conning people into believing he was a pilot, a physician, a lawyer, a cop and a U.S. Customs official, among others.
He eventually went to prison, served two years of his 12-year sentence and then became one of those felons who fail upwards. Frank Jr. got a job with the FBI and went on the speaking circuit, where he currently commands $25,000 to $40,000 per engagement, according to his website. And then Frank Jr. was mythologized into the cultural zeitgeist, first as a loveable rogue played by Leonardo DiCaprio in the 2002 movie “Catch Me If You Can,” and then as the boyish charmer in the 2011 musical of the same name.
Running through Oct. 19 at Lincolnshire’s Marriott Theatre, director Jessica Fisch’s staging of “Catch Me If You Can”(book by Terrence McNally, score by Marc Shaiman, lyrics by Shaiman and Scott Wittman) is defined by a cast with four-star talent trapped in a show with one-star content. The jazzy/bluesy bubblegum-pop score is enjoyable, but the context surrounding it is irredeemable.
The plot follows Frank Jr. (JJ Niemann) and FBI agent Carl Hanratty (Nathaniel Stampley) in a cat-and-mouse game that spans several years and thousands of miles. We see Frank Jr.’s troubled teenage homelife: His father, Frank Sr. (Sean Fortunato), is an alcoholic con man. Mother Paula (Jessie Fisher) was 16 when she married Frank Sr., and unsurprisingly, wants out of the marriage.
Throughout, Frank Jr. is painted not as a villain, but as “just a kid,” a manchild victimized by a bad upbringing. It’s meant to engender sympathy. The musical depicts him as more of a precocious boy on a grand adventure and less of a criminal guilty of grand larceny and endangering lives.
Then there’s the things the musical conveniently omits: Several women have come forward over the years with stories that Frank Jr. — posing as a pilot and a physician — promised them stewardess (as we called them then) jobs, but only if he gave them a physical first. Remorse was not his strong suit: After getting out of prison the first time, Frank. Jr. got a job at Aetna, where he was fired for check fraud.
What we do see of Frank Jr. is the embodiment of clean-cut, wholesome charisma, traits Niemann embodies. Niemann belts with aplomb in “Live in Living Color,” serving big Kevin-Bacon-in-”Footloose” energy as he leaps and spins and skids on his knees across the stage.
Stampley’s Agent Hanratty is the center of Fisch’s production. “Don’t Break the Rules” establishes his Inspector Javert-like work ethic, velvet voice and smooth dance moves. Hanratty has a martini-dry sense of humor, which Stampley delivers with scathing, deadpan precision. His foils are a trio of underlings (Alex Goodrich, Justin Albinder and Karl Hamilton) whose every scene is a masterclass in comedy, anchored by Goodrich’s snort-laugh-inducing shenanigans.
As Brenda, the love interest who turns Frank in after he abandons her right before their engagement party, Mariah Lyttle makes the show’s signature anthem “Fly, Fly Away” a towering heartbreaker.
Throughout, Marriott’s production sounds terrific, thanks to the cast’s power vocals and Music Director Ryan T. Nelson’s airtight nine-piece orchestra. Deidre Goodwin’s cheeky, acrobatic choreography ranging from groovy frugs to vaudevillian soft-shoe duets to a chorus line of pilots in tiny shorts, all doing the dab.
Anthony Churchill’s projections create one of the most immersive productions Marriott has staged in years. A massive circular screen above the stage moves the action below from FBI offices to airport lounges while nailing the color palette of the era — think pale green appliances and Partridge Family-bus color blocking. Niagara Falls, Mount Rushmore and the Great Pyramids materialize like massive Etch-a-Sketch drawings over the minimalist, flexible set designed by Andrew Boyce and Lauren Nichols.
Sully Ratke’s costumes are mostly excellent (Stampley’s suit is sharp enough to skewer silk), but she fails conspicuously by putting the women in sexy nurse/sexy flight attendant/off-brand Playboy Bunny outfits that look like they came from Halloween Spirit.
You don’t have to look hard to see that Frank Abagnale Jr. has plenty of company as a felon who failed up. In that sense, “Catch Me If You Can” remains part of the zeitgeist. It’s a timely, terrible show.