Theaterweek	I've Got an Idea: Let's Put On a Show! by Anthony Chase

In recent years I’ve become saturated with a certain kind of musical revue, wherein a theater slaps some songs on stage in unarguably cheesy fashion, ostensibly stringing them together around a theme—a personality, a composer, a style—and then tries to call that theater. Maybe it’s “theatrical,” but it’s not theater to me. It’s a cheap way to lure in undiscriminating audiences and fleece them.

At its core, a theater experience needs to have some sort of protagonist who triumphs over some obstacle or circumstance in a way that reaffirms (or casts doubt upon) human existence—and that protagonist should not be the audience itself, bravely struggling to endure the show at hand. Failing that, you haven’t got a play, you’ve got a cruise ship show. If there’s no choreography, you’ve got a concert, and the vocal interpretation better be worth the while. But you haven’t got theater.

At their best, revues can provide a meaningful theater experience. Ain’t Misbehavin’ famously created relationships among the members of its performing ensemble, melded these (entirely by implication) to the journey of composer Fats Waller, and provided a riveting and moving theater experience.

Just when I needed it most, Buffalo has produced two shows that rise above the cruise ship. Each has rough edges, but each also provided a meaningful theater experience, and took us on a journey wherein we triumphed over obstacles and emerged renewed.

The cast of "Buffalo Zings, Part Duh"

Buffalo Zings,

Part Duh

Last season, O’Connell & Company offered a satirical revue of song parodies and sketches about Buffalo politics called Buffalo Zings: Hot, Tedium and Wild. In a year of politics especially rich with incident, from the melt-down of Joel Giambra’s leadership to the control board, there was no shortage of material. The company delved in with exuberance, and offered an affectionate and tart representation of the-year-that-was with David Butler playing Giambra in Dracula attire, Mary Kate O’Connell as a Mary Poppins who opined that it would take “a whole boat-load of sugar” to make this budget go down and as Nancy Naples; and Loraine O’Donnell as retired Erie County comptroller Alfreda Slominski in bathrobe and slippers singing “Don’t Cry for Me Erie County,” Evita-style, from the steps of her home. More than fun, the show was therapy, in the Aristotelian cathartic sense. It was good Old Comedy in a way that was downright Greek.

Each scene and number had an underdog to cheer for or a villain to laugh at, and overall Buffalo itself emerged as the exultant hero of its own story. At the time, the universal opinion was that O’Connell & Company needed to do a sequel. And so they did.

The recent run of Buffalo Zings, Part Duh captured a great deal of the fun of the original. Favorite bits were retained—O’Connell’s tipsy Mary Poppins; Butler’s vampire county executive. New bits focused on government response to the October storm and rat infestation in Buffalo’s suburbs. As we are certain to see yet another return of the program in yet another incarnation, the production warrants discussion even after its closing.

Much of the original cast was retained, though a new face, Jenn Stafford, provided a particular jolt of light and energy. She has a pleasing voice and the comic appeal of Madeline Kahn. Being a sequel, the show gave a feeling of the familiar rather than of surprise, but it did maintain the energy of irreverent fun. Also like the original, Part Duh was somewhat prone to an excess of amateurism—a kind of Mickey-and-Judy, let’s-put-on-a-show spirit that works sometimes and does not at others, as in uneven recurring bits featuring a clueless news crew in red jackets that tended to go on too long. On the one hand, the evening had great spontaneity and a sophomoric sense of the naughty. From time to time, however, one wished for a stronger directorial hand.

To be fair, any venture of this nature, with numerous contributors and participants, tends to have a Carol Burnett Show, let’s-fly-by-the-seat-of-our-pants philosophy that is actually necessary to the process of creation. Part of this includes a performing ensemble that is uneven, but which, I would guess, provided a sense of community that is also a required ingredient. In addition to those already mentioned, the ensemble also included Pat Armstrong, Mary Moebius, Daniel Schroeder, Michael Tosha and Joe Borgisi.

Overall, the production was wonderfully satisfying and a part three is both probable and desirable.

Kathy Weese in "Leader of the Pack"

LEADER OF THE PACK

Meanwhile at MusicalFare, Leader of Pack, a tribute to the music of Ellie Greenwich, is a delightful surprise of fun and invention. To begin, the show has far more narrative than I recalled. In memory, Leader of the Pack is a revue of Greenwich’s many hit songs—“Be My Baby,” “Do Wah Diddy,” “And Then He Kissed Me,” “Chapel Of Love” and “Da Doo Ron Ron” among them. But the show also uses quick bits of biography—Greenwich’s growing up, her start in the music business, her marriage to and divorce from Jeff Barry, and so forth. It is still, primarily, a revue, but one anchored to the journey of one character, the very heroic Ellie Greenwich.

The show is unusual, in that it was written to be performed by Greenwich herself in the second act, with singer Darlene Love playing herself as well. Oddly, the 1985 script was never adapted for subsequent productions. As a result, Ellie’s triumphant return late in the show—a moment that originally exploded with the entrance of the real-life Ellie Greenwich, plays peculiarly. Similarly, the moment when Greenwich, in the original, would have turned to the real-life Darlene Love and said, “I’ve waited 20 years to hear you sing this song,” loses something when we have no idea who Loraine O’Donnell is supposed to be playing as she tears into “River Deep, Mountain High.”

Putting all that aside for the moment, the exquisite beauty of the MusicalFare production lies in the great skill of the performers and the meticulous artistry with which Lisa Ludwig has staged the production and with which John Fredo has choreographed. Leader of the Pack wins us over in its opening moments as the lights come up on each of four girl singers, one by one, revealing their 1960s big hair. Add to this that the ensemble, with music direction by Michael Hake, sings brilliantly.

Pretty girls in bad wigs is pretty much the aesthetic theme of the evening, and I quite enjoyed it. Loraine O’Donnell looks like some odd hybrid of Marlo Thomas, Jacqueline Susann and Grace Slick. She is wonderful in a role that is, structurally, the most difficult to justify in the show’s convoluted book, but with the focus located elsewhere—on the Greenwich character—O’Donnell pulls off an artful sleight of hand and sells her numbers winningly.

As for the Ellie Greenwich of the evening, the ever charismatic Kathy Weese casts a spell in the role. She sings well, dances well and takes us, fully willing, on a tour of Ellie Greenwich’s career from the Brill Building to Broadway. Robert J. Cook is similarly convincing as Jeff Barry.

The energy of the show comes from the all singing, all dancing ensemble, with Nicole Marrale Cimato, Paschal Frisina III, Kelly Jakiel, Andy Moss, Michele Marie Roberts, Marc Sacco and Elizabeth Urbanczyk. Each is attractive. Each is talented. Together they are dynamite. Urbanczyk is especially memorable on a couple of kick-ass solos. Eric Rawski provides frequent comic highlights as the music publisher who makes Greenwich a song-writing star, and happily ripped her off for years.

Flawed material is successfully disguised with a heavy coat of polish in a very engaging and satisfying production which makes excellent use of the abundance of musical theater talent in Buffalo. Leader of the Pack continues at MusicalFare through December 10. Call 839-8540.