The cast of "Club Morocco"

Photo courtesy of Encore Theatre

Rain pelted the roof of Dexter’s Encore Theatre — yes, it was actually a dark and stormy night, folks — during Saturday evening’s performance of the musical noir spoof “Club Morocco,” suggesting that even Mother Nature wanted in on the act.

The two and a half hour show, created by Jon Huffman and Barbara Cullen, starts with hard-boiled gumshoe Frank McCann (Paul Kerr) confessing that he’s been laying low for six months, after being shot, and that he’s now returning to his old haunt, the Club Morocco, for revenge and a shot at redemption.

Mostly, though, the story is an excuse to re-create the style, sound, and feel of a 1940s nightclub, complete with a live swing band; a charismatic band leader (Tony D. Owens, Jr.); cocktail waitresses who serve drinks (to patrons near the stage) before the show and during intermission; torch singers; and a supporting crew of dancer/singers that perform choreographed production numbers.

What keeps “Morocco” from becoming a straight-up revue is that audience members are invited to leave their seats and dance during several numbers (lights along the theater’s side walls indicate when patrons may dance). To accommodate this atmosphere, small tables for patrons have been set up along the sides and in front of the stage; yet the rest of the theater’s seating remains intact.

This latter detail poses a logistical problem for those (like us) seated in the middle of a row; if the folks on the aisle aren’t interested in getting up to dance, you face the prospect of climbing over them (and back) during the show, or you simply decide not to bother. Yes, there’s a good deal to enjoy about the show without doing any dancing yourself, but for those who’d like to twinkle a toe or two, I’d suggest chatting up the people seated on the aisle and seeing if you might work out an exchange.

And you might be more inclined to dance than you think, given the fabulous line-up of swing-era standards that range from up-tempo romps (“Sing, Sing, Sing,” “Jump, Jive an' Wail,” “The Joint is Jumpin’”) to artful ballads (“Moonlight in Vermont,” “Old Devil Moon,” “Stardust”). Owens, as well as Barb Coven as headliner Velvet St. Regis, and Steve DeBruyne as Bobby LaRue, offer strong vocal performances, while Broadway veteran Jessica Grove - playing Frank’s old flame Nugget Rialto — hits her songs out of the park, packing her gorgeous voice full of heartbreak and longing.

The five-man band (referred to as the Swing Street All-Stars), however, hit some rough spots Saturday evening. The trumpeter went AWOL mid-song a couple of times and struggled in the higher registers during the show’s first act (though, by show’s end, the problems appeared to be remedied); a few wrong notes came out of the sax; and although the rhythm section generally provided a solid musical anchor, even they got rhythmically off-track once shortly before intermission.

Perhaps such slip-ups are almost inevitable, given how incredibly music-heavy the show is. But the show is also quite dance-heavy, and the production fares better in this department. Cullen, who also directed the show, sure-handedly choreographs the numbers, with the standouts being the lavishly romantic “Begin the Beguine,” and a two-man tap dance set to “Me and My Shadow” — both skillfully executed by members of the ensemble. Generally, some of the show’s dancing could have been sharper, but by and large, the ensemble handles the show’s huge dance demands well. (And Clare Eisentrout, as Kitten Springs, manages to steal a short scene with Kerr).

Daniel C. Walker’s set design, meanwhile, makes great use of the Encore’s space while mimicking an old-fashioned club. But I had mixed feelings about Colleen E. Meyer’s costumes. Coven and Grove looked exactly right in their glamorous gowns, as did the male ensemble members in their coat and tails; but other ensemble costumes, at times, looked far less era-specific, and occasionally veered toward the cartoonish.

My guess, though, is that you’ll barely notice such small matters, because “Morocco” is, more than anything, an enjoyable night out. The script cleverly balances its various elements (story, performed musical numbers, audience participation) while keeping momentum and pace in mind; and quite frankly, it’s just fun to imagine yourself sitting in a 1940s nightclub, listening (or dancing) to lovely, well-sung standards. For many patrons, that experience alone will be worth the ticket price.

Jenn McKee is the entertainment digital journalist for AnnArbor.com. Reach her at jennmckee@annarbor.com or 734-623-2546, and follow her on Twitter @jennmckee.