“Ride the Cyclone” a whirlwind musical journey with a seize-the-day message

“Ride the Cyclone” the eerie, tragicomic, dizzyingly talent-filled musical vaudeville — born in Canada, and now receiving its U.S. premiere on Chicago Shakespeare Theater’s Upstairs stage — possesses elements reminiscent of such shows as “Forever Plaid” and “The 23rd Annual Putnam County Spelling Bee.” But it comes with a whole different level of sophistication.

And perhaps because the show arrives here in the wake of so many horrific school shootings it packs a huge emotional punch. If ever there were a ticket stub that should bear the words “carpe diem,” the one for “Ride the Cyclone” would be it. The brilliance of it all is that you careen toward that conclusion filled with every bit as much delight and wonder as a sense of doom.

‘RIDE THE CYCLONE’

Highly recommended

When: Through Nov. 15

Where: Chicago Shakespeare Theater, 800 E. Grand on Navy Pier

Tickets: $30 – $48

Info: (312) 595-5600; www.chicagoshakes.com

Run time: 95 minutes, with no intermission

Initially devised as a song cycle/cabaret for Toronto’s Atomic Vaudeville theater compan, this now full-blown 90-minute musical — with a brilliant genre-hopping pastiche score full of ingenious lyrics by Jacob Richmond and Brooke Maxwell — has been hauntingly directed and choreographed by Rachel Rockwell, and features the sort of peerless music direction (and five-piece band) for which Doug Peck has long been acclaimed.

As for the cast, “Ride the Cyclone” clearly has New York ambitions (though the more intimate the theater the better), and its seven performers are so extraordinary you can only hope the ensemble will not be altered for any major future engagement.

So what’s it all about? The “cyclone” of the title is an amusement park roller coaster ride from which six teenagers from the St. Cassian chamber choir are catapulted to their deaths after a rat (a bass player), has chewed on a power cable and an alcoholic carney has failed to notice the danger.

Narrating the tale — and strangely presiding over the future fates of the dead — is The Amazing Karnak (a terrific turn by Karl Hamilton), a heavily masked and turbaned seer full of quirky philosophical notions. He has each of the survivors explain why he or she should be allowed to return to life, with only one ultimately to receive that gift. This, of course, opens the door for each of them to deliver a bravura, character-revealing song. And to be sure, Richmond and Maxwell give each of them a number to remember, with several quite familiar types, and a few on the outer edges, but all of them completely memorable.

Ocean O’Connell Rosenberg (Tiffany Tatreau is perfection), a hyper-achieving, self-impressed redhead, is convinced she has all the right stuff for continued existence and belts out “What the World Needs is People Like Me.” Noel Gruber (Kholby Wardell, the only member of the original Canadian cast, who dances up a storm in black lace), is the gay teen in a town where no one shares his sexual fantasies. But in an elaborate homage to Marlene Dietrich, he gives us his own take on “The Blue Angel.”

Mischa Bachinski (the wholly engaging Russell Mernagh), is the Ukrainian immigrant with a thick accent — punk tough on the outside, but full of romantic notions as he dreams of his old country Internet bride (wonderfully evoked by Mike Tutaj’s projections), and performs the very funny “Awesome/Talia.” Ricky Potts (the very funny Jackson Evans) is the nerdy, super-brainy guy we initially see on crutches, but he could easily take his place in ABBA as he rocks his glam number “S.A.B.M.” (“Space Age Bachelor Man”).

As for Constance Blackwood (the indomitable Lillian Castillo, a natural comedian with an inner light and sense of mischief that makes her instantly lovable), she is the plump best friend of the “perfect” Ocean, and she has a secret. She also taps into the sheer joy of life with “Sugarcloud.”

Last but by no means least there is Jane Doe (Emily Rohm), the girl decapitated in the accident who remains unidentified. The ghostly doll-like Rohm is a sublime actress whose golden coloratura soprano is ravishingly showcased in the operatic “Ballad of Jane Doe.”

I will tell you no more, except to say that every element of the show’s design is magical (loud applause for Scott Davis’ set, Theresa Ham’s costumes, Greg Hofmann’s lighting and Melissa Veal’s wigs and makeup), and that this is not really a work for children. It is, however, an emotional thrill ride of a musical that every adult will savor.