No worries, blog readers: We aren't talking about THAT "Beehive." Heather and Mike Oz are not moonlighting on the weekends by reenacting episodes of "The Office" using interpretive dance or belting out ballads about Britney Spears' latest paparazzi bloodbath.

The "Beehive" show I'm talking about is the exhilarating musical tribute revue focusing on the "girl groups" of the 1960s now playing at Roger Rocka's Dinner Theater.

The talent pool is deep in "Beehive." Have we ever gotten to see so many powerhouse local women in one GCP production? (Well, there was an actual show called "The Women" at the Second Space in 2006, but it wasn't a musical.) In "Beehive," we aren't talking about just one or two show-stopping performers dominating a supporting ensemble. Every member of the cast of eight gets a chance to shine in the spotlight, whether it's singing a well-known tune such as "My Boyfriend's Back" or shimmying through a dance scene in one of Ginger Kay Lewis Reed's spectacular psychedelic costumes.

GCP likes to program a light-hearted, upbeat and infectious musical during the holiday season. "Beehive" is the best I've seen in the past couple of years.

Although we meet a bevy of famous '60s gals in "Beehive," including Diana Ross, Arethra Franklin, Connie Francis, the Chiffons and Janis Joplin, what makes this brisk little show work so well is that the cast members aren't really doing impersonations. They play their own characters on stage, and those characters -- who we meet on a first-name performer basis -- just happen to be paying tribute to their favorite musical icons. It's the difference between a wax-museum approach and a lively, warm experience that not only recalls favorite tunes but captures the personal impact of a tumultuous decade.

The idea of "girl groups" wasn't new in the first part of the '60s, of course, but in the turbulent and socially aware stirrings of the age, those groups started to take on a whole new attitude of empowerment. Parading past the audience in a series of wild beehive hairdos (the wigs by Steve Souza are a hoot), the women appear taller not just because of the height of their hair but their attitude.

David Pierce's clever set, dominated by an enormous juke box, is well-designed and visually inventive, and the integration of video technology (in which we get to see footage of the real Cher, for example) is a nice addition. Chris Lang's lighting design captures the vibe of an era, and Souza's choreography nicely complements the vocals without overwhelming them. Greg Grannis' direction is mostly successful, although there are some clunky transitions in the first act. (A number with a glow-in-the-dark hula hoop stumbles, for example, with an awkward clump of darkness). There are times that the production is not as confident and clockwork-energetic as it should be. Grannis seems unsure of how to handle the more serious moments of social change and uproar that are introduced in the beginning of the second act. It's a very, very good GCP show, but it just misses being great because of the sometimes tentative direction.

Still, it's the songs that carry "Beehive." (Scott Hancock is vocal coach.) The company is a delight. Highlights include Kelly Brianne Hall's deft comic timing as a well-endowed Annette Funicello, Kathy Sanders as an impish Connie Francis, Teresa K. Gipson and Sydney A. Mason belting out The Supremes' "I Hear a Symphony" and Aretha Franklin's "Respect," Sarah Lofgren's spunky "Never Go Home" (complete with chopsticks in her hair!) and the enthusiastic and amusing Astrid Plane (bringing a bit of show-biz celebrity herself to the role; she was the lead singer for the 1980s group Animotion, best known for the song "Obsession") playing a ragged Janis Joplin and strutting about on stage wearing a vivid green dress trimmed with red poinsettias and a towering Christmas-tree Beehive hairdo. (Again, the costumes are lavish and a whole lot of fun.)

Two talented Good Company veterans are particularly fine: Tami Cowger and Janet Glaude. We often hear about the distinguished alumni of the company who have gone on to powerhouse professional careers -- Audra McDonald, Sharon Leal, Heidi Blickenstaff, etc. -- but I have no doubt that Cowger and Glaude could have joined those ranks if they hadn't decided to stay in Fresno and grace us with their presence. Cowger brightens the stage every time she's on, from her smoldering "You Don't Own Me" and festive "It's My Party" to a great rendition of "To Sir With Love." (She has, in particular, a hysterical way of bopping her head from left to right in that number that's positively giddy.)

Glaude, too, has a palpable stage presence, whether it's a goofy interlude wearing an Oscar on her head in "Academy Award" or belting out "Proud Mary." The high point of the show comes when Cowger and Glaude join forces in a towering duel of voices in "Do Right Woman" and "Natural Woman." It's like standing between two big rigs as they rush past on either side, barely missing you on a highway of sound. It makes you want to stand up and buzz: You go, girls.