Am I the only one who liked the Broadway Palm Dinner Theatre’s “Holidazzle” last year?

Apparently so. Mentioning that holiday book musical to the folks at the Broadway Palm nowadays elicits either winces of pain or blushing, embarrassed laughs. I may have dug “Holidazzle’s” shameless fusing of “Frosty the Snowman” with Glenn Miller’s “In the Mood” and its story set in a ’50s diner feeding Broadway wastrels, but audiences apparently thought otherwise — and loudly voiced their opinion to the Palm.

Give us some food, some dancing, some songs we all know and love, they said, and leave that book crap for the critics.

Well, gripe and ye shall receive. A book-free revue, I mean. Directed by Seth Reines and choreographed by April Monte, “Sounds of Christmas” is a time- traveling, everything-but-the-kitchen- sink hodgepodge of holiday song and dance that’s charming enough to please nearly everyone and packed with just enough funny stuff to shake even this critic’s gut like a bowl full of jelly.

The show skitters from a rather Dickensian Central Park scene in 1910 right into the ’40s to hilariously riff on “The Bickersons” radio show; later, we’re taken to a 1930s backwoods church for a podunk scene called “A Shank Family Christmas” before we’re flitted off into more obligatory stuff, like a “Nutcracker” bedroom fantasia and a visit to Santa’s place. The obvious holiday tunes are here, from “Let It Snow” (in the Valley? Really?) to “O Christmas Tree,” along with a few pleasant surprises — greatest of which is turning the song “My Favorite Things” into a little Veruca Salt’s greedy ode for more toys.

I couldn’t help but think, in my “Holidazzle”-d heart of hearts, that we could spend more time with each of the storied scenes or that a whole book could be made from “A Shank Family Christmas” — In it, the pastor tells the congregation to come to Wednesday night’s Bible study, titled, “What is Hell?,” after which he adds, “Come early and hear the choir practice.” Ba-dum- bum. Adorable! — or even the opening scene in Central Park, with its multicultural story of people coming together to see the first electrically lighted Christmas tree.

No book. Just song and dance and Merry Christmas and to all a good night.

Naturally, a kitchen-sink revue that aims to please everyone will both reach too far and not far enough. The second act’s brief attempt at cribbing “The Nutcracker,” despite Monte’s deft choreography, feels like spurious lip service. And as the show speeds to a close — in a medley that clutters the stage and sputters by midpoint with collective actorly exhaustion — we get hints of “Holidazzle” — with a few swing charts before “Sounds of Christmas” crashes into fatal cheesiness with both a disco track (“Santa Fever”) and rapping James Brown ditty (“Santa Wants a Brand New Bag”) that deserve lumps of coal instead of applause.

Otherwise, the ensemble singing is big and bold and fine, and duets range from solid to only slightly shrill (as in an elderly couple’s “Baby, It’s Cold Outside”).

“Sounds of Christmas” delivers its audience what they’ve asked for all along: a buffet of pure sweetness. For those who only want visions of sugarplums dancing in their heads, it’s a near-perfect confection.
Those of us wanting something meatier, naturally, will have to settle for finding it back in the food line.