LEGALLY BLONDE, THE MUSICAL

Oh my God – or 'Omigaad!', as it's sung in the new musical Legally Blonde - is the automatic reflex to everything good, bad or sad in the show. Not that it means anything. It's just an indication that the person saying it is conscious and can talk, up to a point, in fluent MTV-speak, which is, like, the chosen language of every girl aged, like, ten or more and in possession of a Tiffany necklace with a heart-shaped clasp.

These are the tweenies for whom heroine Elle Woods, played with irrepressible pink perkiness by Reese Witherspoon in the original film, became more crucial than the lastest ASOS fashion catalogue.

Sheridan Smith's Elle is effortlessly natural and wonderfully winning. Brings the house down.'

Like the film but with diamante bells on, Jerry Mitchell's musical is a hymn to all things pink and girlie and drooled-over by teen princesses. The costumes are totally Barbie, their hair-dos perfectly My Little Pony, the sets impeccably Polly Pocket. And just like them, its pure plastic - and its fantastic.

Jerry Mitchell's musical is FANTASTIC.

As for the choreography, it's less dance and more a sequence of tireless, hyper-energetic aerobics classes, which include a skipping number and a hilarious Riverdance spoof performed by a jokey Greek-chorus of girls fuelled by Red Bull, which is what keeps Elle, played by Sheridan Smith, wired.

I came out grinning. This is the ultimate feel-blonde, feel-pink show.

The story is, in essence, Hairspray, with blondes rather than fatties being rehabilitated. Elle is an all-American bubbly blonde who is dumped by her snooty boyfriend Warner, for being too blonde, by which he means, too Marilyn and ditzy and not sufficiently Jackie O and darkly serious.

Had I been Elle, I would have simply gone brunette but Elle is less superficial. Her blondeness may be bottle but it is more than skin-deep. It's who she is and what she wants to remain – along with all the matching accessories, such as a Chihuahua dressed in a pink coat and pink collar with a diamante B for Bruiser.

So Elle, a fashion student, follows Warner (Duncan James of boyband Blue, and not really an actor) to Harvard Law School, charming the interview panel with her all-singing, all-dancing presentation. 'Tell me about yourself? says Peter Davison's law professor. 'I'm a Gemini,' gurgles Elle and, with that, he's wrapped around her pinkie finger.

Smith's Elle is more of a girl-next-door than the kooky, quirky Witherspoon, but she's effortlessly natural and wonderfully winning as she combines her blonde know-how (she is sure that girls from her college would never date a man in a thong) with her growing grasp of the law to fight for the underdog.

While sticking pretty closely to the film, Heather Hach’s book and Nell Benjamin and Laurence O'Keefe's lyrics seize every opportunity to camp things up, with hysterically funny results.

Chris Ellis-Stanton waggles for all he's worth as the super-fit delivery man in short shorts; and in the courtroom scene, Elle brings the house down when she forces witness out of the closet ('Is he gay or European?').

This is a light-as-candy-floss, 100-per-cent-calorie-free show. However, read those glossy lips, because there's a message for girls: it is OK to be pretty and pink and blonde because guys who are worth it will see the pure gold beyond the high-lights. But it is even more important to think positive, stand by your sisters and be yourself.

I did come out grinning. This is the ultimate feel-blonde, feel-pink show.