`PILGRIM' GOES MIDDLE AGES CRAZY.

Byline: Katherine Karlin Correspondent

Although the mythical world of John Stothers' new musical, "Pilgrim," lacks specific historical coordinates, it may seem oddly familiar: bawdy wenches, sooty-faced urchins, a nattering madman, a mercenary operator of ambiguous sexuality - we're in the land of the bloated musical.

If this is your cup of English Breakfast tea (and, judging by the success of shows like "Les Miz" and "Phantom of the Opera," it's a pretty big cup), help yourself. Derivative as it is, "Pilgrim" imitates with complete professionalism.

"Pilgrim" is not about the Mayflower. It seems to be set in the late Middle Ages, when craftspeople of different types toiled within the confines of a walled city for the powerful guildmasters. Their overseer is the printer, Ten Bosch, who has secret desires to become master himself. Bringing a glimmer of joy into this gray world is the iconoclastic Tinker, who solders together cracked pots and who has an eye for the haughty Anna, daughter of one master and pledged to another. (As oppressive as this world is, Tinker still manages to run around in a leather vest with his nipples exposed.

In order to escape her arranged marriage, Anna impulsively weds Tinker, and initiates a spiral of punishment and redemption for the workman. Imprisoned with a lunatic, Tinker embarks on a series of dreams that borrow heavily from Arthurian legend, and which are enacted on stage by acrobats - a man on stilts, dancers flipping across the floor, a woman descending from the rafters on a long swath of stretchy fabric. He writes up the dreams, and Anna smuggles the texts out to a public that's hungry for a vision of a larger, brighter world.

Naturally, the lunatic, Hieronymus, is a kind of seer and serves as our guide. Robert Patteri sings in a plummy British accent that moves from a croaking whisper to a throbbing vibrato - the type of performance so thoroughly lampooned by Christopher Sieber in "Spamalot" it can no longer be endured with a straight face. As he sings, Patteri sweeps his arms before him as if he were carefully smoothing the sheets on an imaginary bed.

There's so much to ridicule in "Pilgrim," in fact, it's easy to miss some intriguing ideas Stothers puts forward: that a population suffering tyranny forfeits independence for safety, that we are addicted to the power of storytelling ("What's next?" is the cry of the craftspeople reading Tinker's dreams), that a spoiled young woman can find self-worth through love and hard work. Not to mention Tom Buderwitz's simple set, which delineates the class system in the city with a few broad strokes. And the acrobats themselves, even though they seem to have dropped in from Vegas, are an eyeful.

Stothers' songs draw on a variety of idioms, from rock and country-western to Renaissance music; a synthesized sound of bagpipes and penny whistle give some of them a Celtic air. Tom Korbee, who plays Tinker, looks like a recent runaway from a boy band, but he sings well, as does Jessica Rush in the role of Anna. Eric Anderson camps it up as Ten Bosh and injects the proceedings with a much-needed dose of irony.

PILGRIM - Two stars

Where: Ricardo Montalban Theatre, 1615 Vine St., Hollywood.

When: 8 p.m. Thursdays through Saturdays, 2 p.m. Saturdays and Sundays; through April 23.

Tickets: $34 to 64. [phone]. www.tix.com.

In a nutshell: "Les Miserables" meets Excalibur.