AN OLD COOKING maestro once said, “the lighter the souffl鬠the richer the taste.” What souffl鳠are to cooking, tap-dance-showcasing musicals are to theater. The secret of souffl鳠is taking ingredients destined to be heavy and whipping them into something spirited, like the ability to slap solid metal onto your shoes and actually appear freer than you would be without it.

42nd Street

Seattle Civic Light Opera Jane Addams Theater ends October 21

The cast of Seattle Civic Light Opera’s production of Harry Warren and Al Dubin’s 42nd Street has this tap-talent mastered. They shine best in the moments when the singing and talk stop or, in the case of the whiz-bang opening sequence, haven’t started at all, and the skill cramming the stage flies out in shuffles and shimmies. Yet this same lightness of touch fades in the moments between the dancing. It’s as if the cast isn’t having fun. Sure, they smile plenty and sparkle in Lee Ann Hittenberger’s delightful costumes. But they plunge headfirst with steadfast sincerity into the merest whiff of a story: A young girl with legs and looks wins the heart of a Big Director and makes it Big on Broadway! Imagine that!

Only in the final bars of the second-to-last number does Beth Madsen’s female protagonist manage to tear away from the cloying sweetness of her character, revealing the show-stopper talent of the performer who has spent the past two-and-half-hours waiting to get out. Which caused me to wonder: Why stick to the outside of a souffl魭that sweet but fluffy shell of flour—when it’s the butter and cream at the heart that make you lick your lips and grin?