This Joint is Jumpin'
Not being one to stand on pretence, I'll admit something right off the bat. I had no prior knowledge of the show Ain't Misbehavin' or Fats Waller, for that matter, when I took my seat at the Ahmanson Theater this past Friday.
Don't get me wrong, I had some preconceived notions (misconceived ones, I might add). Based off the knowledge that it was an African-American cast, set to music written by an African-American tin-pan alley pianist in the 1920's, I'll fully cop to the fact that I was expecting to be treated to something similar to Ragtime. Heavy themes of race and inequality made palatable by jazzy, foot-tappin' showtunes. Sue me. I'm a 25 year-old, Caucasian theater fan who was weened on Rodgers & Hammerstein. That's me for better or worse.
So needless to say, when the lights went down, and a single piano player and five performers just started singing song after song with no real dialogue except maybe a saucy remark here and there, I was a bit disoriented. Where's the narrative? I thought to myself and then felt instantly foolish when I looked at the front of my program and saw the words "MUSICAL SHOW". So I settled back in my chair, feeling slightly cheated that I wasn't going to get the meaty characters and dramatic plotline that I'd been anticipating.
Characters I got, and in spades. The cast is, in a word, sensational. Only five performers--two gents and three ladies--each equipped with powerhouse voices and eclipsing stage presence. As the show progressed, every solo number became a healthy competition to see who could own the spotlight. On the whole, Roz Ryan seemed the likely victor. Brassy and sassy, her buxsome figure, baudy persona, and booming belt during "Cash for Your Trash" will leave you in absolute stitches. If Roz is the champ, then Armelia McQueen is the formidable contender, whose pouty glare and cutting remarks make her absolutely captivating to watch when she's onstage and leave a noticeable absence when she's not. Doug Eskew is the veteran male counterpart to these ladies, whose boyish charm adds a delightful sense of mischief to his intimidating stature and deep, powerful baritone. Debra Walton, is deceptive as the doe-eyed jittery ingenue amidst the grounded, more "seasoned" ladies. Just when you think Roz and Armelia are going to wipe the floor with her, she clears the stage with her dance moves and her smooth, crystalline voices carries clear up to the rafters. And then there's the young buck of the group, Eugene Barry-Hill. Poor Eugene. After being given hardly any spotlight whatsoever in the first act, I feared he'd end up being the wallflower of the group. However, with his slick, serpentile dancing and seductive voice, his number "The Viper's Drag"/"The Reefer Song" ultimately walks away with the show.
But this cast is an ensemble in the truest sense, and although exceptional on their own, they are strongest when they're together. The rapport is unbeatable. Make sure to listen closely, for the greatest laughs in the show come from the asides, the biting remarks the jabs they hurl effortlessly and off-the-cuff.
And I was wrong about the lack of narrative. There is a story here, just not a script. Its in Waller's music, introducing us to the man and the world in which he lived. His personality shines through in every song...the defiant, jazzy melodies he conjured up to combat his church upbringing and classical training. The blue innuendo and syncopation of the Tin Pan alley joints he made his home in. And everything else about the show's production design colors Fat's world. John Lee Beatty's scenic design puts us in the Cotton Club or the Savoy Ballroom, where white folks came to see black entertainers, and clapped their hands and tapped their toes, blithely missing some of the underlying messages of the songs. And once I started really listening, the themes I'd been anticipating began to ring through loud and clear. The costume design completes the effect, giving these performers Broadway-style glamour with grounded, baser sensibilities.
Calling the actors by their actual first names brings and contemporary poignancy to the piece that is quite effective. This isn't a fluff show or a musical revue. It has a point--one that hasn't dulled in the 70 years since Fats' heyday. I my favorite part of Ain't Misbehavin' was that it took me by surprise in so many ways. Just when I was resting on my laurels, thinking I'd pretty much run the gamut of musical theater, a musical show from the 1930's catches me off guard. I guess Fats was right after all. One never knows, do one?
Ain't Misbehavin' runs through May 31, 2009
Performances: Tues-Sat at 8pm, Sat matinee at 1pm, Sun at 1pm and 6:30pm. No performances on Mondays. Exceptions: additional matinees on Thursdays, May 21st and 28th at 2pm, no performance on Thursday, April 30th, no 630pm performance on Sunday, May 31st.
Ahmanson Theater: 135 N. Grand Ave., Los Angeles
Tickets: $20-100, available by calling Center Theatre Group Audience Services (213) 628-2772, or online at www.centertheatregroup.org, or at the box office. $20 Hot Tix can be purchased, subject to availability, from the box office in advance or on the day of the performance (cash or credit only).
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