He’s young. He’s smart. He’s handsome. He’s curious about the world around him. He’s sensitive and romantic. He’s occasionally homicidal. He desperately wants to belong. He has pointed ears and was born in a cave, but Bat Boy is just like you and me.
Hope Falls, West Virginia, has a population of 500 and a big problem — nay, a crisis on their hands. The slaughterhouse is dried up, and the ranchers’ cows are mysteriously dying in front of their eyes. Who’s to blame when things go wrong? The scapegoat, of course. In this case, it’s a half-bat, half-boy the Taylor siblings found living in a nearby cave.
So begins Workhouse Arts Center’s Bat Boy: The Musical, when amateur spelunkers Rick (Kyle Donovan), Ruthie (Olivia Levin), and Ron Taylor (Mel Gumina) descend into the cave, their smartphone lights piercing the darkness. But the Taylor kids are in for a rude surprise when out of the abyss emerges a creature unlike any they have seen before — a creature so strange, so bizarre, so terrifying, and yet so clearly exhibitive of both bat and human features, that he should only be dubbed Bat Boy. Played with wily athleticism by Matthew Monaghan, Bat Boy brings a delightfully rare mix of raunchy physical comedy and dry humor to the stage.
If you think you’ve heard of Bat Boy before, that’s because this 1997 rock musical by Keythe Farley and Brian Flemming, with music and lyrics by Laurence O’Keefe, is inspired by a 1992 Weekly World News story with the headline “Bat Child Found in Cave.” The famous image of the eyes-wide, fangs reared, opalescent-looking adolescent bequeaths a degree of nonsensical camp that is played up tenfold in Workhouse’s production. Directed by Stephen Emery, this small-scale production packs a mighty big sense of humor.
Bat Boy is captured by Sheriff Reynolds (Michael Sherman), but not before nipping Ruthie’s finger first. He is quickly taken to the local veterinarian, Dr. Parker (an intensely brooding patriarch played by Adian Chapman), to be put down. But Dr. Parker’s uptight wife Meredith (Melanie Kurstin knows exactly when to go over the top) and their teenage daughter Shelley (a smart but sensible Sasha Rosenbaum) have other plans for the tiny beast. While Dr. Parker is less than thrilled and Shelley somewhat confused, Meredith is quite certain that all Bat Boy needs is a little Christian charity to tame his animalistic ways. Thanks to the Parker family — and BBC diction tapes — Bat Boy learns what it means to belong to “polite society,” developing a posh British accent along the way. His foster family bestows on him a new moniker: Edgar.
Edgar wants nothing more than to come out to society during Reverend Billy Hightower’s (Brian Ashton) Tent Revival Meeting, which is sure to be the social event of the year. By this point, Edgar has become every mother’s (and mother’s daughter’s) dream, but the town is less amenable to him — what with Ruthie Taylor still hunkered down in the hospital and all that. But it doesn’t take a genius to figure out what’s really going on here. The Appalachian townsfolk don’t like Edgar because he is different from them. The allegory of this musical is clear as day, but rest assured the second act has plenty of true surprises for this creature of the night. When Meredith gets a little too possessive of Edgar, Shelley begins developing feelings for him, and Dr. Parker starts scheming behind the scenes, things are bound to turn ugly.
Likely influenced by Little Shop of Horrors (but not quite at its level), Bat Boy’s score has a surprising number of musical theater bangers (if you’re into that sort of thing). The biggest offender is “Hold Me, Bat Boy,” which has yet to leave my head since leaving the theater.
Scenic designer Sequoia Grace keeps things truncated on the venue’s simple black box. Quick transitions between the Parker family living room and the Town Hall fit the pace of the musical, adding certain moments of intrigue, notably when the vinyl walls of the set “come alive,” so to speak, complemented by Christina Giles’s eerie lighting design. The set is always engulfed by the dark humidity of the cave, harkening us back to Bat Boy’s roots. Bat Boy at several points climbs, hangs, or dangles from what I can only assume are the lighting rigs hung above — but out of sight of –- the scene.
Merissa Martignoni and Natalie Turkevich’s costume design indicates that we are in the 21st century — as does the constant presence of smartphones on stage. The trouble here — from black judiciary robes to daisy dukes and overalls to mid-century shirtwaists — is a lack of cohesion. Emery’s program note alludes to the idea that “tabloid headlines have transferred to our algorithmic feeds,” but what the director calls “an era of digital sensationalism” never quite reaches its payoff in this production. The choice to include phones on stage, unfortunately, proves more distracting than anchored to any clear message.
It’s no use pretending Bat Boy is rooted in any sort of sensible reality. Like Edgar says, “The world is man or beast, but I am both or neither.” Workhouse’s Bat Boy is comic mayhem. The jokes land. The ensemble’s energy is infectious. It’s a wildly satirical, wickedly fun time.
Running Time: Two hours including an intermission.
Bat Boy: The Musical plays through October 25, 2026, presented by Workhouse Arts Center, performing in Building W-3, 9518 Workhouse Way, Lorton, VA. Purchase tickets ($50 for general admission, with discounts available for students, seniors, and military) at the box office, online, or by calling 703-584-2900.
Bat Boy: The Musical
Story and Book by Keythe Farley and Brian Flemming
Music and Lyrics by Laurence O’Keefe
Directed by Stephen Emery
