As he demonstrated in his production of Mac Wellman's The Lesser Magoo, Lee has an unusually exuberant spatial imagination. He's comfortable not only working with layered textual material (one character channels moments from both Uncle Vanyaand Three Sisters), but in choreographing disparate theatrical worlds. He also possesses a talent for writing witty lyrics (particularly amusing are the rowdy chorus numbers). Though his music-hall saga may not travel anywhere too deep, it never lacks flamboyant style or rock'n'roll verve.
The total commitment of the young cast is truly marvelous to behold. Of special comic note is Ruth Moore as the society matron determined to steer her daughter towards Nirvanov's millions and C.S. Lee as her equally greedy recording-mogul husband. It's all such good fun, it seems a pity to quibble about the candlelit Cobain vigil ending. Mawkish, sure, but when you're in such confident directorial hands, it's easy to overlook a few dramaturgical flaws.