Patrick Makuakane knows just how far to stretch the rules of hula — just far enough so they don’t snap back.

Makuakane, born on Oahu, is kumu hula and founder of Na Lei Hulu I Ka Wekiu (Feather Garlands from the Heights), based in San Francisco. Charming, articulate, kolohe (rascally), Makuakane narrates his 30-member troupe’s shows, choreographs them, beats the pahu, sings, even dances (most kumu don’t, in performance).

And when Friday’s opening night performance at Hawaii Theatre, the people — including his own kumu, Robert Cazimero, kumu Keali‘i Reichel of Maui and "The KUmZ" — Karl Veto Baker and Michael Casupang of Halau I Ka Wekiu — were on their feet, screaming with amazement and appreciation.

This is not your Auntie Dottie’s hoike (exhibition).

While the dances remain grounded in the familiar foundation movements of hula, Makuakane weaves in his own ideas, employing music and moves that range from the Charleston to modern dance, jazz to rap. Costuming is scrumptious, sophisticated and ideally suited to each selection.

The multimedia show features images projected onto a screen behind the dancers, and cuts of interviews with language experts Puakea Nogelmeir and Ka‘i Sai-Dudoit. The inspiration for this show, "Ka Leo Kanaka: The Voice of the People," is the 100 years of Hawaiian language newspapers published in Hawaii and a volunteer-driven project that has seen 75,000 pages of text transcribed and made searchable.

Not only does Makua­kane’s work offer fresh insights into what contemporary hula can be, his dancers also eschew perfection for an air of relaxed confidence, eyes that connect with the audience, faces that authentically express emotion.

Makuakane opened with a traditional, kahiko-style hula telling of a portion of the sprawling Pele myth; the familiar story of the fire goddess’s love for the chief Lohiau ("the stud daddy of Kauai") and her beautiful sister Hiiaka’s journey to fetch Lohiau to her. ("The moral of the story is don’t send your gorgeous younger sister to bring your boyfriend from another island," Makuakane quipped. By the end, Hiiaka and Lohiau are getting it on and a furious Pele makes him into "a lava sandwich," he said.)

These interpolations are typical of Makuakane’s commitment to demystifying Hawaiian culture. In introducing the dances, pages of Hawaiian newspapers were projected onto the screen and the sometimes poignant, sometimes educational and sometimes hilarious pieces translated — hilarious in that people used the paper to make announcements, such as a married couple’s side-splitting he-said, she-said debate about fidelity and money.

It is impossible within the confines of this medium to convey the breadth of this show: from King Kalakaua to Louis Armstrong (who knew he did a "Jazz Goes Hawaiian" album?), Michael Jackson to Spandau Ballet.

Makuakane’s spoof on the allegations that President Barack Obama was not born here, "The Birth Certificate Hula" (to the familiar tune of "Aloha Week Hula,") brought down the house.

The classic "Embraceable You," performed by Desiree Woodward-Lee in a rose satin gown and gardenias, had women of a certain age misting up.

A kanikau (dirge, of which thousands were published in the papers) about the death at a young age of Prince Albert Edward, son of Queen Emma and King Kamehameha IV, brought respectful silence.

And bragging songs about the newspapers themselves were a delightful surprise.

Makuakane recalled Nogelmeier, a composer and teacher of Hawaiian, teasing him about leaving a verse out of a mele.

Retorted Makuakane, "The truth is, if I sang every verse of every song in the newspapers we would be here until 3 o’clock in the morning!"

Wanda Adams, an Oahu freelance writer, took her first hula class from Auntie Emma Sharpe of Maui when she was 5.