Theater Review

It turns out that the warm and fuzzy characters that once populated Sesame Street have grown up, moved out, and are now struggling to find jobs, happiness and sexual fulfillment on Avenue Q.

That’s the inspired idea behind “Avenue Q,” the hit, Tony-winning musical that’s making its first Boston tour stop, through March 23, at the Colonial Theatre. The show cleverly (and sometimes crassly) plays on all our deep-seated notions about puppets as clean, thoughtful perky creatures that care only about friends and the letter “K.”

The simplicity of life on Sesame Street is long gone, replaced by a complex world where issues like rent and relationships are confusing and messy. Composers and lyricists Robert Lopez and Jeff Marx do a terrific job of wringing the laughs out of this premise. The song titles alone make you chuckle — “It Sucks to be Me,” “The Internet is for Porn,” “Everyone’s a Little Bit Racist” — and when they’re played to the kind of simple bouncy music that’s closely related to the soundtrack of all those benign Saturday morning kids’ shows, the chuckles turn to laughs.

The defining moment of the show comes near the end of Act I, when Princeton, the 20-something new kid on the block, hits the sheets with his neighbor, Kate. It’s not just sex, it’s the kind of callisthenic sex that you might expect in a sequel to “9 ½ Weeks” (except that it’s played for comedy, of course). Hey, you were warned: The show clearly indicates there will be “full puppet nudity.”

The scene, like many others, is just so wrong. And just so funny.

Don’t be misled. It’s not a vulgar show. Yes, there are a couple of f-bombs, but other than that, the most offensive thing about the show is the lyrics. And they’re only uncomfortable if you think they’re digging a little too close to the truth: “Everybody’s a little racist sometimes/ That doesn’t mean we go out and commit hate crimes.” Or, in another song, “The more you love someone, the more you want to kill them.”

The show is staged with the actors in full view, dressed in black, manipulating and voicing the puppets. Kelli Sawyer is particularly impressive in two diverse roles — wholesome Kate and trampy Lucy.

But where do you look: at the puppet or the actor? The answer to that question may tell you something about the success of a puppet-based production. I’m a firm believer in the magic of puppets — they can do (and get away with) things on stage that actors could never pull off. (Example: The sex scene simply wouldn’t be as funny, or energetic — or, in most states, legal — if it were played by humans.) If the magic is really working onstage, then your eyes almost never leave the puppets. So it may be a short-coming of “Avenue Q” that I often found my gaze drifting to the actors, hungry for the way their subtle expressions deepened the performances.

But “Avenue Q” cuts right to the heart of what theater does well. At a time when too many plays look like screenplays that couldn’t get financing and settled instead for the stage, “Avenue Q” takes full advantage of the unique magic of theater. It’s the perfect home for emotionally complex (and politically incorrect) puppets.