A bang-up act, ‘Stomp’ is tough to beat

But I’m happy to report that there are few cobwebs or signs of rust (except for the many hunks of metal onstage) on this institution, which is currently raising a ruckus at the Cutler Majestic Theatre.

During its best, most convulsive moments, “Stomp’’ shows what it is possible when you let the id off its leash. Yet it also has a charmingly old-fashioned, let’s-put-on-a-show quality. Its guiding assumption is that there is music everywhere you look, because anything - brooms, dustpans, trash cans, tires, tubes, the human body - can be turned into a musical instrument. The extension of that assumption, I guess, is that anyone can be a performer.

Which is not to say that we could do what this talented cast does. We couldn’t. It would be hard to match their kinetic energy, for one thing. The eight performers in “Stomp’’ - six men and two women attired in T-shirts, work boots, and paint-spattered jeans - are in nearly constant motion for 90 minutes. Routines unfold in a seeming frenzy that is actually a tightly choreographed blend of movement, slapstick, and percussive pounding. Hands are clapped, feet are stomped, and every imaginable surface is slapped, pummeled, or kicked to generate a constant, pulsing rhythm.

There is no narrative to speak of in “Stomp,’’ though there are some amusing mini-rivalries and displays of one-upsmanship, and no dialogue (unless you count the occasional yip or screech). This edition of “Stomp’’ contains one new juggling routine that the Flying Karamazov Brothers would be proud to call their own, in which the ensemble spreads out across the stage and sends paint cans soaring back and forth in criss-cross patterns. In another new bit, the drumstick-wielding performers wear huge, tractor-tire inner tubes around their waists, which they then proceed to bounce and batter.

But the high point for me was when the performers were tethered to a large scaffold and proceeded, in a kind of triumph over their surroundings, to coax a mini-symphony from the array of junk (pots, pans, traffic signs) hanging on the scaffold. The scene somehow evoked Fritz Lang’s “Metropolis.’’

On a set that could be either an industrial work site or a junkyard, the ensemble waged rat-a-tat battles with long sticks and created hypnotic sounds with nothing more than a few rubber tubes. It gladdened this old journalist’s heart to see an ingenious routine built around the aural and visual effects that can be produced by newspapers (including your trusty Globe). One performer amusingly mimicked the birth of a bird (or was that a “Jurassic Park’’-like pterodactyl?) by bursting his head through a newspaper.

However, a couple of “Stomp’’ numbers may have reached their expiration date, such as a routine involving cigarette lighters and another in which the performers opened and closed folding chairs and slid them across the stage. Both had a so-what feel.

During one of the show’s rare quiet moments at the performance I attended, someone’s cellphone went off and kept ringing. The performers paused ever so briefly and looked out at the audience. Would we see a reprise of the already-famous moment last month when Hugh Jackman chided an audience member whose cellphone interrupted his performance in “A Steady Rain’’ on Broadway?

We would not. The action resumed. Stomping well is the best revenge, I suppose. And if there is anything these energetic and inventive troupers know for sure, it’s that any noise you can make, they can make louder.

Don Aucoin can be reached at aucoin@globe.com.