Review: Open Fist Theatre’s ‘Bat Boy’ Is Intrepidly Weird & Wonderful

What do you get when you cross a tabloid sensation with a rock ‘n’ roll horror-comedy? A fang-tastic, electrifying treat like Bat Boy: The Musical, which first clawed its way onto the stage at the Actors’ Gang Theatre in Culver City — only 16 miles from its current roost at Atwater Village Theatre, where Open Fist Theatre Company is unleashing its fervent bite through Sunday, April 6th. Inspired by a 1992 Weekly World News story and adapted into a book by Keythe Farley and Brian Flemming, with music and lyrics by Laurence O’Keefe, this cult classic, now in an ideal blackbox setting, crafts a raw, immersive experience that pulses with the heartbeat of the “freak” at its core, leaving an indelible impression of both chaos and empathy.

The premise is delightfully unhinged and deeply provocative: a half-human, half-bat creature is discovered in a Hope Falls, West Virginian cave and taken in by the Parker family — Dr. Thomas Parker, a veterinarian, his wife Meredith, and their daughter Shelley. In this musical, Bat Boy quickly learns to speak with a posh British accent (via BBC language tapes), yearns for acceptance, and desperately tries to assimilate into society. However, he confronts visceral hatred and violence from the self-proclaimed Christian charitable, cattle-rancher townsfolk, led by the wicked jealousy of Dr. Parker, who blame Bat Boy for the depletion of their cows and the protagonist’s bite of an accidental victim, Ruthie Taylor, which inexplicably won’t clot.

Unlike the Weekly World News depiction, which leaned into sensationalism, this version sharpens its edge with profound themes: embracing, accepting, and loving those deemed “other” or outside societal norms. It’s a piercing allegory suggesting that acknowledging the animal within us could halt the atrocities committed in the name of humanity’s supposed superiority — a message delivered with haunting melodies and dark humor, although the lines are rarely played for laughs which is all the more reason why a relatable seriousness can coexist alongside a grim outlandishness.

Ben Raanan’s fanged and elvish-eared Bat Boy is a triple threat who bowls over the audience, his effortless voice soaring throughout “Let Me Walk Among You” with a raw, sincere, and courageous vulnerability that captures the character’s aching desire for “healing” and connection, while his prowling physicality — marked by a clawing hand reaching out of a white canvas bag along with a sinewy, bat-like crouch and upside-down suspension — ignites the gut-wrenching finale with a ferocity that embodies the entity’s tormented struggle between primordial instinct and humanity. NYU graduate Raanan earnestly approaches his complex character, alternating between do-gooder Jekyll and a slightly savage Hyde, amidst a narrative tenor resembling Little Shop of Horrors, and striking a thematic balance between innocence and surrealism.

Robyn Roth as Meredith Parker anchors the emotional core with a breathtaking performance, her sympathetic yet commanding presence in “A Home for You” and “Three Bedroom House” seizing the heart with a soulful and belting resonance that reveals her conflicted maternal propensities. Roth’s touching chemistry with Raanan’s Bat Boy, whom she happily refers to as “Edgar,” grounds the show, giving it a more profound tenderness than the average musical.

Having her fair share of mother-daughter rapport with Roth’s Meredith is Bethany Koulias as Shelley Parker who radiates fiery naïveté and passion, her chemistry with Raanan crackling in “Inside Your Heart,” a duet that weaves romance with poignant depth. Koulias’s wholesome portrayal makes Shelley’s forbidden love for Bat Boy a heart-wrenching highlight, drawing gasps as their union becomes realized right before Roth’s opposing Meredith enters the scene.

Scott Mosenson’s Dr. Parker is a chillingly charismatic adversary, his sly grin and minatory intensity in “Dance With Me, Darling” twisting a seemingly innocuous hymn into a darkly humorous showcase of a man hurting for his wife’s withered love, now unearthed and entirely focused on Bat Boy. Mosenson’s commanding nature and predatory stage presence as the unethical doctor dominate the space, leaving spectators torn between revulsion and reluctant admiration, cementing him as a jaw-dropping antagonist with more nefarious impulses than one can imagine.

Michael Lanahan’s Sheriff Reynolds brings a Don Knotts-like, light-hearted edge that relieves the tension, while Chima Rok’s Reverend Hightower steals the top of Act II with his fire-and-brimstone panache in “A Joyful Noise” — his sonorous voice and boundless energy whipping the ensemble into a frenzied spectacle. Ethen Remez-Cott and Isaac Council as the bumbling Taylor brothers (Rick and Ron) deliver as trepidatious townsmen as does Sandra Kate Burck as Ruthie, their onstage sister, who is jumped by a fight-or-flight reactive Bat Boy when the three happen upon the creature at the very outset. The siblings’ mom, the overzealous Mrs. Taylor, is portrayed with righteous indignation and outflowing anguish by the dedicated Rebecca Larsen.

The company’s dedication to playing their roles with solemnity comes through authentically, with their personae unaware of the underlying comedy within Bat Boy‘s otherwise morose premise. Standouts include Grace Soens as the likeable and quirky Lorraine who speaks on what the upcoming tent revival means to her; Amir Levi as the impish Pan, particularly when, as a ram, the performer leads the Genesis-reminiscent “Children, Children;” Ziare Rene as the vocally steadfast Ned; Beth Robbins as the down-to-business mayor Maggie; Carmella Jenkins as the happy-to-oblige assistant-to-the-mayor Daisy; and Hutchins Foster as the overalls-wearing, quintessential bumpkin who indiscriminately goes with the flow.

Not to mention, the versatile ensemble contributes to a can’t-take-your-eyes-off-the-stage energy powering a fever dream where revelations, each more outrageous than the last, draw cackles of laughter. To this aim, no scandalous moment is more memorable than a silhouetted presentation of the shocking origin story of how Bat Boy came to be and where he precisely fits into the small, humble town.

Behind the scenes, director Pat Towne crafts a visceral, intimate staging, inviting attendees into the story’s primal heart with inventive blocking and a razor-sharp eye for how the moods of the musical should be conveyed. Towne’s masterful use of the tight quarters heightens the tension, making Bat Boy’s confinement in the cage feel suffocatingly real, while his pacing builds on the deepening feeling and turmoil.

Supporting Towne’s vision is Brad Bentz’s rustic, cavernous, and full-mooned scenic design, featuring jagged wooden structures and shadowy corners that evoke an eerie atmosphere, both grounded and obscure. Music director and keyboardist Sean Paxton, who is situated upstage alongside band members Jim Miller (drums), Mike Flick (bass), and Kevin Tiernan (guitar), ensures O’Keefe’s score — ranging from rock anthems to penetrating ballads — grabs the observer all the way through the production’s wild conclusion. Choreographer Jennifer Maples’s eccentric movements, as seen in “Children, Children,” and in the ankle-slapping “Another Dead Cow,” emphasize a playfulness that ensures the production never becomes too melancholic or macabre.

Additionally, Charley Mulally’s transformative makeup — especially Raanan’s striking bat features — adds a visceral layer of realism to Bat Boy’s appearance, while Brandon Baruch’s moody lighting, bathed in blues and reds that evoke mystery and menace, heightens the plot’s unsettling crescendos. Last but not least, Christopher Moscatiello’s sound design, with its echoing reverberations and sharp, jarring effects, envelops the audience, making every growl, scream, and sound by the actors and Paxton’s band feel palpably alive.

Overall, Open Fist Theatre Company’s Bat Boy: The Musical is a thrilling, thought-provoking romp that sinks its teeth deep into the human condition. With performances this powerful and a production effortlessly mixing highly pertinent messages on abandonment and intolerance in parallel with the ludicrously bizarre, there is no shortage of stimuli to take in. Needless to say, the Atwater Village Theatre is the place to embrace the freak within.

Cover image caption: Ben Raanan (front) and ensemble in Open Fist Theatre Company’s production of Bat Boy: The Musical at the Atwater Village Theatre in Los Angeles, CA. Photo by John Dlugolecki

Open Fist Theatre Company’s production of Bat Boy: The Musical runs through Sunday, April 6th at the Atwater Village Theatre (3269 Casitas Avenue) in Los Angeles. For more information on the show and to purchase tickets, visit openfist.org.