There’s a handy old ad hominem that often bubbles to the surface when contemplating yet another revival of an ‘old favourite’ that perhaps should have been left to yesteryear. You know it; it’s the one about polishing a certain type of excrement. And you’ve quite possibly seen it, too, one of those lazy, half-soaked retreads of a show we’ve seen countless times before, put through the blender of formulae and churned out to half-empty auditoriums.

Firstly, to call Footloose as source material a ‘turd’ would be needlessly both crass and unfair. Whilst its tale of repressed youths liberating their town through, of all things, dance, has never really been one that immediately screamed for the musical treatment, it isn’t the queerest of adaptations, either. Music running, as it does, through every tap and beat of its tale, and, given the soundtrack of the 1984 Hollywood sleeper hit boasts such instant earworms as the titular track and Bonnie Tyler’s ‘Holding Out For A Hero’, you already have the foundations of something poppy, frothy and fun for the stage.

Turning lemons into lemonade would perhaps, then, be a fairer adage.

True, there’s little getting around a story that is littered with a full quota of rote, cookie cutter characters, in service to a predictable, by-the-numbers plot and perfunctory central romance to boot, all of which quickly remind an audience that this is a story reaching for its fortieth anniversary in the not-too-distant. But, given those are the ingredients that the creatives assembled for this latest tour had to work with, coupled with the fact that the majority of audiences going in to see a show called Footloose will be expecting exactly that, then what surprisingly fizzy and energising lemonade it proves to be.

If that sounds a needlessly mean-spirited opener, it isn’t the intent. Look, Footloose is never going to blow minds or subvert expectations on what narrative profundity it’s going to provide; on stage or otherwise. Even back in the early eighties, it was enjoyed (later celebrated) as a spunky, spritely ode to teenage rebellion and the irresistible burgeoning of music and dance. Add a smattering of clerical authoritarianism and a sprinkle of parental conflict and, voila, you have a not-so-modern day fable of fighting the good fight by putting a soft shoe in your step (or, indeed, the nearest ‘Country’ equivalent).

Assembling a corker of a cast is the first step SellADoor and co. get right here. You’ve got your Darren Days (off sick for the performance reviewed) and Jake Quickendens (more on whom later) as poster names to draw in the crowds and sell it as a production of ‘note’, but they are slotted in amongst a company and ensemble who are energised and excellent throughout.

Nowhere is this more noticeable than in Joshua Hawkins’ pitch-perfect steering of the ship as ‘Ren’ (Kevin Bacon’s star-making turn in the original). Hawkins is a professionally trained musical theatre performer, and it erupts from every moment he takes to the stage – a hyper-energised, vocally robust and tirelessly excellent turn. Co-lead Lucy Munden, likewise, routinely impresses as the daughter of an oppressive Reverend (Ben Barrow, doing an admirable understudy job for Day), whilst Oonagh Cox is a recurring delight as exuberant friend Rusty.

“…it must be said, X Factor and I’m A Celebrity star Quickenden is an inspired choice”

But there’s talent and entertaining takes pretty much wherever you glance. Wendy Paver cycles through a triad of roles and imbues each with something tender, funny or sardonic, whilst in much the same vein, Holly Ashton delicately bandies between a tender, empathetic mother and a wrenching, waspish principal. And, it must be said, X Factor and I’m A Celebrity star Quickenden is an inspired choice for the role of kind-hearted but slightly dim-witted Willard. Wheeling back to that initial latrine analogy, there’ve been many a touring ship sunk by the foolhardy insistence on stunt casting (please, nobody mention a certain Ms. Collins, we may manifest something awful). No such trouble here, though – Quickenden, who, to be fair was already known as a capable vocalist, is a complete natural on the stage, too. He crafts an endearing and animated character study, and sings and dances up a storm when called for. His august physique certainly received audible cries of approval from the crowds, too.

Aesthetically, this is a fairly handsome and shiny standard for a touring piece of theatre. Sara Perks’ set design, Chris Davey’s lighting and Chris Whybrow’s (occasionally over-bombastic) sound design all sync up to offer an impressive looking evening of colourful musical escapism. It certainly channels its era ‘vibes’ with aplomb. And, whilst some may balk at the mere mention of actor-muso, here it’s a neat, lightly-applied gloss, rather than a distracting splash of showmanship.

“…as fun, as inventive, as animated and as ambitious as any production of Footloose has a right to be.”

Performers wheel around on roller blades playing saxophones. Ensemble members literally propel themselves forward on gigantic rubber tyres. Cue the fan that blows Munden’s hair in suitably eighties dynamo fashion as she belts out the last reaches of ‘Holding Out For A Hero’. It’s pulpy, it’s predictable, and it’s plenty derivative, but heck, this is as fun, as inventive, as animated and as ambitious as any production of Footloose has a right to be.

So kick off your Sunday shoes, and whisk yourself back to simpler, sillier times. You likely won’t leave feeling in any way profoundly moved, surprised or enlightened, but that’s not really the point. It’s as polished and punchily executed as you could hope for in the confines of what the now-familiar story has to offer and, much like the denizens of its fictional humdrum town, by the time its infectious extended curtain call revisits those seminal hits, you’ll have had an irrepressibly good time getting to cut loose with Footloose, anyway.