Theater review: ‘Zorro’ a bit cluttered but still sparky and fun

7:30 p.m. Tuesdays-Thursdays. 8 p.m. Fridays-Saturdays. 2:30 p.m. Saturdays-Sundays. 7:30 p.m. Sundays. Through May 5. $30-$70. Alliance Theatre, 1280 Peachtree St. N.E. 404-733-5000.

Bottom line: Mixed but very sparky musical about the masked crusader.

In the early 1800s, an aristocratic patriarch living in California packs his son off to university in Spain. Leaving behind a cauldron of family dysfunction and social upheaval, young Diego joins a band of flamenco-dancing gypsies and eventually creates a zigzag double identity as the masked crusader Zorro.

Etched in fire and blood, the legend of Zorro has been transformed from a novel by Chilean author Isabel Allende into a theatrical spectacle featuring the music of the Gipsy Kings. After a 2008 West End run, a world tour and countless tweaks and rewrites by director Christopher Renshaw and his creative team over the past 12 years, the musical is making its American premiere at the Alliance Theatre through May 5, to decidedly mixed but frequently delicious results.

With book and lyrics by Stephen Clark and a score “co-composed, orchestrated, arranged and adapted” by John Cameron, “Zorro” musters great charm from its indelible portraits of heroes, vagabonds and comic buffoons, who wield swords and flamenco petticoats with passion and precision.

Though its convoluted plot and epic cast of characters hang together pretty well in the first act, deriving considerable comedic muscle from the excellent work of Natascia Diaz as the gypsy bombshell Inez and Eliseo Román as the bumbling and besmitten Sergeant Garcia, the show ultimately packs more secrets and subplots than a Shakespearean farce. You might just see a bit of the Bard’s imprint on the material — mistaken identities, brotherly backstabbing, romantic rivalry. In “Zorro,” sparks fly, almost to a fault.

But what grounds this epic is the human scale of its hero, Diego/Zorro, the wonderful Adam Jacobs, and the astonishing narcissism of his archnemesis and brother, Ramon, played with the vicious elegance of a preening peacock by Nicholas Carriere. A case of sibling rivalry chronicled from childhood forward, theirs is a battle royal that takes hostage both their father (Mark Kincaid) and their common love interest, Luisa, the lovely Andrea Goss.

The narrative is crowded, the fight choreography sometimes lacks sizzle, and some of the big ensemble numbers look and sound a little messy, yet the music and the visuals never fail. The score is a winning blend of classic Gipsy Kings (“Bamboleo,” “Djobi Djoba”) and bawdy drinking songs (“One More Beer”) — with hints, even, of the dark philosophical posturing of Belgian songwriter Jacques Brel and the yearning romance of folkie Janis Ian in the ballad of Luisa and Diego, “Remember.”

Designer Tom Piper imbues his sets and costumes with operatic grandeur — lots of red draperies, Gothic chapels, dungeons, structured military regalia and billowing peasant frocks. Ben Ormerod’s lighting washes the stage in glowing reds and somber blacks, evoking changes in tone and emotion with energy and electricity.

While “Zorro” has been billed as a flamenco extravaganza, choreographer Rafael Amargo only gives us one truly showstopping sequence about halfway into the second act; in that moment, soloists Glenda Sol Koeraus and Jose Moreno are terrific. Though the quintessential gypsy dance is a unifying element throughout, it is mostly window dressing.

Despite its literary limitations, “Zorro” remains a fascinating entertainment, with delightful comedic flourishes and winks to musical-theater literature, from “Gypsy” to “Kinky Boots.” There’s even a little Mel Brooks in the confession scene.

Marrying pop music and special effects with a story of murderous brotherly passion, the Alliance season finale is not unlike its high-profile 2012 closer, “Ghost Brothers of Darkland County.” I would argue, however, that its prospects for a future life are a good bit stronger.