'Coraline' at SF Playhouse review

Coraline: Musical. Book by David Greenspan, adapted from the novel by Neil Gaiman. Music and lyrics by Stephin Merritt. Directed by Bill English. SF Playhouse, 533 Sutter St., S.F. Through Jan. 15. 90 minutes. $30-$50. (415) 677-9596. www.sfplayhouse.org.

Be careful what you wish for. As readers of Neil Gaiman's delightfully creepy "Coraline" and viewers of Henry Selick's animated adaptation know full well, young Coraline's longing for adventure and more attentive parents pays treacherous dividends.

Selick's blockbuster film wasn't the only "Coraline" to open last year. There was also an off-Broadway stage musical, written by playwright David Greenspan ("She Stoops to Comedy") and Magnetic Fields songwriter Stephin Merritt. Securing the rights to the West Coast premiere seemed like a big feather in the cap of SF Playhouse Artistic Director Bill English.

Until "Coraline" opened at the Playhouse on Saturday, that is. There's a lot to like in English's staging - and the combination of Gaiman, Greenspan and Merritt should sell tickets no matter what the critics say - but it turns out that there are good reasons for the bad-to-lukewarm reviews the show received in New York.

The adaptation is the biggest problem, despite its laudable fidelity to the book (much more so than the film). Greenspan's make-believe approach undercuts the tale's suspense and tends to make good actors look like amateurs. Merritt's inventive but cerebral score - for toy and prepared pianos - works against any emotional connection with Coraline's plight in the alternative world beyond that mysterious door.

Coraline (Maya Donato, alternating with Julia Belanoff) finds the door - locked and bricked up - while exploring her new home in an old, four-unit house. Mother (Stacy Ross) and Father (Jackson Davis) work from home and are so bound to their computers - literally, in Valera Coble's whimsical costumes - they have little time for Coraline.

When the bricks disappear and she goes through the door, she finds duplicate parents with much more time for love and games, who look just like her own - except for the large black buttons where their eyes should be.