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Home > Theater Reviews > Archives > 2007 > June > 14

Thursday, June 14, 2007

WENDELL’S WEEKEND PICK: ‘Respect’

THEATER REVIEW. GRADE: B-

If you could pick one song as the soundtrack of your life, what would it be? Gloria Gaynor’s “I Will Survive,” perhaps. The Gershwins’ “Someone to Watch Over Me,” maybe. How about Janis Joplin’s trademark “Piece of My Heart”?

Such is the premise of Dorothy Marcic’s “Respect: A Musical Journey of Women,” the jukebox revue on the 14th Street Playhouse mainstage that charts the history of the American female as a chronicle of hard work, disappointment, strength, integrity and love.

Marcic may not win a prize for her storytelling formula, in which an autobiographical character aligns her personal journey with a timeline of key moments in history that has all the panache of a grade-school textbook.

But the author, who has a background as a leadership-seminar instructor, has a way of interlacing show-business icons with figures from the social movement, so “Respect” ends up being as much about Donna Reed, Annette Funicello and Marilyn Monroe as it does Ida B. Wells, Rosa Parks and Betty Friedan.

If “Respect” is overloaded with Top 40 ditties about boy lust, it also has a few honest things to say about the immigrant experience, alcoholic husbands, single moms and the indomitable spirit of the female psyche. But instead of operating like a blistering social critique, it comes off as a warmhearted, generous and life-affirming piece of entertainment pie.

“Respect” — like the wildly popular Abba homage “Mamma Mia!” — isn’t intended as a showcase for sexy, Las Vegas-style performers, or at least not in this version by director Seth Greenleaf and choreographer Barbara Flaten.

Playing Marcic’s autobiographical Dorothy, Mary Kathryn Kaye exudes the polished professionalism of an infomercial host who can’t stop beaming about the truth and virtue of her product. This narrative adventure couldn’t possibly be as funny as giggly Dorothy seems to think it is, yet you can’t help getting sucked into the theatrical nonsense involving Betty Boop, Rosie the Riveter, “I Love Lucy” and Barbie.

As the threesome who perform most of the frenetically paced schtick, Amy Miller Brennan, Cory A. Farinacci and Denitra Isler are dynamos all: terrific singers with comedic brio and powerful acting kits. Farinacci is a petite but brassy belter (though an odd choice for depicting Monroe). Brennan is by turns giddy and heartbreaking (even as Betty Boop). And Isler gets to do a sequence on Rosa Parks (which feels a tad long and heavy-freighted).

Matching songs to their chronological place in time doesn’t seem to be Marcic’s strong suit. Rodgers and Hart’s “Bewitched, Bothered and Bewildered” (1940), for instance, turns up in the section on the ’60s.

But she does make some salient but subtle points about the treatment of women down through the ages. In her grandmother’s day, she says, strong women were dismissed as mean. (Cue to “Hard-Hearted Hannah.”) And after battling for permission to vote and wear pants, the independent types were still criticized —for having the audacity to go to work. As campy as “These Boots Are Made for Walkin’” sounds today, when it was first recorded, in 1966, it actually intimidated men, according to our narrator.

Featherweight though it may be, “Respect” honors the first tenet of musical theater. When there’s no other way to express an emotion, do a song. “Tall Paul.” “Animal Crackers in My Soup.” “Tain’t Nobody’s Business If I Do.” “Diamonds Are a Girl’s Best Friend.” “I Am Woman.” “Bend Me, Shape Me.”

Part of the fun is guessing which tune will pop up next. Are you ready, girls?

THE 411: 8 p.m. Wednesdays-Saturdays; 2 p.m. Saturdays and Sundays. Open-ended. $39.50. 14th Street Playhouse, 173 14th St., Midtown. 404-733-4750; www.woodruff center.org/14thstplayhouse

THE VERDICT: Where the girls are: a giddy and infectious jukebox revue.

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‘Cabaret’ @ Shakespeare Tavern

THEATER REVIEW. Grade: C-

The cast of the New American Shakespeare Tavern’s “Cabaret” deserves to be lined up and spanked.

Not for giving a bad performance. But for imbuing the seedy underbelly of 1930s Berlin with all the decadence and debauchery that made it such a fascinatingly taboo subject for novelist Christopher Isherwood and his autobiographical “Berlin Stories.”

At the naughty heart of John Kander and Fred Ebb’s 31-year-old musical is the Kit Kat Club, where an epicene emcee encourages bisexual nooky and frames the tale of lonely-hearts Sally Bowles and Clifford Bradshaw (Isherwood’s doppelganger). Sally is a sexually insatiable burlesque diva. Clifford is everybody’s boy-toy and the penniless writer with whom she shares a room.

Though the master of ceremonies (Jeff McKerley) assures us that the nightclub is a safety zone from the troubles of the outside world, it’s really a subterfuge for sinister politics and doomed romance. While Sally (Agnes Harty) and Clifford (Matt Nitchie) get tangled in their web of sexual co-dependency, their unmarried landlady, Fraulein Schneider (Ellen McQueen), is courted by an adoring old schnapps-breath named Herr Schultz (Clark Taylor).

To its credit, director Heidi Cline’s staging captures the suffocating sense of despair lurking under the carefree exterior. But this “Cabaret” often feels more like a really good dinner-theater production than a top-notch professional endeavor.

The Tavern’s intimate scale and cabaret-style atmosphere make it the ideal venue for the material, and some of the performances are quite entertaining. But no matter how much you admire the ensemble for experimenting outside the familiar Shakespeare canon, at three hours (including a 15-minute intermission), the show is long and frustratingly uneven.

Harty’s take on Sally is more that of bulldozing dominatrix than blithe-spirited tomboy and soul mate to Clifford. Harty’s big breakout numbers are dynamic, but her English accent is all over the map. Nitchie captures Clifford’s erotic confusion without ever being wispy, but in this roomful of outsize personalities, he fails to make much of an impression.

Oddly enough, the real standout here is McQueen as the shy, homely Fraulein Schneider (“So What?”), who so reluctantly falls for Herr Schultz and his gifts of oranges and pineapples (“It Couldn’t Please Me More”). Their sweet autumnal romance becomes the delicate counterweight for the sordid world swirling around them. With her low-pitched voice and quirky movement vocabulary, McQueen is the real deal. Drunk, giddy and perhaps not long for this world, Herr Schultz is reminiscent of the terminally ill but bubbly Otto in “Grand Hotel.”

You should also keep your eye on the sailor-baiting Fraulein Kost (LaLa Cochran, always a hoot) and the cunningly manipulative Ernst Ludwig (Jeff Watkins). As emcee, McKerley is low and lascivious —- an equal opportunity crotch grabber and provocateur. McKerley also choreographed the company’s dance moves, which are appropriately louche and only loosely Fosse-esque.

One interesting thing is the way some of the actors double as musicians. Thus you may see Watkins act out a scene and then stealthily move to the balcony to play the clarinet. The technique is vaguely reminiscent of John Doyle’s “Company” and “Sweeney Todd, ” though not as streamlined.

If in the end this “Cabaret” is a disappointing, the ensemble seems to be having a rollicking good time, yet the darker elements of Isherwood’s story never get lost in the merriment. By insisting that you not sit alone in your room, the emcee really is a prophet of doom.

THE 411: 7:30 p.m. Thursdays-Saturdays; 6:30 p.m. Sundays. Through July 1. $10-$32. New American Shakespeare Tavern, 499 Peachtree St. N.E., Atlanta. 404-874-5299, shakespearetavern.com.

THE VERDICT: Uneven, but packs a punch.

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