Actors playing bunnies playing kids -- what's not to like?

After all, part of the appeal of children's stories like Rosemary Wells' "Max & Ruby" is animals behaving like humans, providing a cute, non-threatening parallel to the lives children recognize. To turn that around on stage, with 20-something actors converted to bunnies just by floppy ears and cotton ball tails, doubles the joke.

But as with all children's theater, age matters a lot: there's more difference between audiences aged 5, 8 or 11 than those aged 30, 40 or 50. And you also have to cater to the parents, teachers and grandparents, or no one would bring the kids.

I'd guess that the prime target audience for the "Max & Ruby" making the rounds of the Pittsburgh International Children's Theatre's suburban sites this weekend is 4 to 6 -- 10-year-olds would be bored. That's only fair, because many of the series' fine touring shows aim at those older kids, and I've seen how squirmy the smaller kids can be.

Speaking as a grandparent, though, I had a good time, even without any of my grandchildren to explain things to me -- partly because I could enjoy all the other children packing the Byham at Monday's morning matinee.

Now in its 38th season, this invaluable series also serves as an introduction to recently popular children's books. That's how I met the estimable Junie B. Jones, and this week, Wells' cute bunnies. I gather Max and Ruby are pretty well-known, because they appear on Nickelodeon, not just between covers.

The reliable people at TheatreworksUSA, the biggest name in touring children's theater, have come up with a 50-minute musical tale about the bossy, well-meaning Ruby and her little brother. I'm told they're 7 and 3, although Ruby feels younger than that. (Like any proud grandpa, I probably base that on indulgent observation of my grandkids.)

This particular story is about Ruby planning to put on a show for Grandma, casting herself as a princess and Max as a prince. But all sorts of thing go wrong, mainly because Max has a wandering mind of his own and, truth to tell, Ruby is a little scatterbrained, too. Of course, the result pleases Grandma anyway.

Me, I admire Carol Hall's seven- or eight-song score and lyrics. Several of the tunes are catchy, in the spirit you'd expect from the composer of "Best Little Whorehouse in Texas," and her lyrics generally have more humor than Glen Berger's book. I loved the tarantula song, as did the kids. Berger's dialogue mainly just pushes the story along, but there are some funny surprises that approximate the bewildering shifts of small kids. I can see why Wells is successful.

The show opens with a pedestrian but well-meaning versified list of admonitions about how to behave in a theater (don't be late, stay in your seat, be willing to make believe, etc.). The acting, especially by Alison Grace Bradbury as Ruby, is pretty much face-front-and-deliver.

Ruby talks constantly but Kenneth Fantry's Max is the Buster Keaton role, with only tag lines to repeat. Four other actors play about 10 more characters, and there's a colorful house set that shifts easily between scenes.

Thinking about what ages this is aimed at reminded me of the much bigger family show opening this week, "The Lion King." For that, I have a personal rule: I take each of my grandchildren to the Broadway version, but not until they're 5 or older.

(An early version of this review incorrectly identified the composer, because it is incorrectly listed in the theater program.)

First Published: January 10, 2008, 10:00 a.m.