Also this issue:

"4 Artists of Distinction"
The African American Museum's "4 Artists of Distinction" is bright and deep.
-Robin Rice

Wlodzimierz Ksiazek: New Paintings
-Susan Hagen

Le Ballet National du Senegal
-Deni Kasrel

Beatlemania Now Project
-Paul Burress

Dealer's Choice
-Shivani Mahendroo

Donna Uchizono Co.
-Deni Kasrel

In the Shape of a Spider
-Shivani Mahendroo

Georgian State Dance Company
-Janet Anderson

November 14-20, 2002

theater

Pal Joey

Tainted love: Joey (Trent Dawson) and Vera (Christine Andreas) use and abuse each other in Pal Joey.

by David Anthony Fox

Joey Evans is a heel: sleazy and manipulative, he’s also a pathological liar and (except for a savvy sense of self-interest) dumb as a post. That he’s the protagonist of a musical is unusual enough. That the musical was written in 1940 tells us a lot about the dazzlingly innovative imaginations of Rodgers and Hart.

Pal Joey, based on stories written by John O'Hara for The New Yorker, tells the tale of a shlemiel with an unrealistic dream (to be a famous nightclub performer) that he pursues largely through the seduction of needy women. The stories are fundamentally genre pieces, where the seamy milieu of Joey's Chicago club takes center stage. The Rodgers and Hart and O'Hara musical, though, places emphasis on one particular affair -- Joey's fling with the socially prominent Vera Simpson. Vera has the clout to make Joey's dreams come true... and the cynical good sense to know just what they're worth.

The resulting show broke new ground. Joey's odious story and characters troubled even perceptive critics. ("How can you draw sweet water from a foul well?" Brooks Atkinson wrote following the premiere.) Rodgers and Hart use music in audacious ways. The nightclub songs are deliberately inferior, just the sort of tripe one would hear in a dive. (Cabaret owes a lot to Joey.) Joey's "What Do I Care for a Dame?" shocks us with his shallowness ("Every damn dame is the same"). And Vera knows exactly what she's getting ("His thoughts are seldom consecutive/ He just can't write/ I know a movie executive/ Who's twice as bright."). Compared to this, most musicals seem like kid stuff.

Joey demands a production that takes it seriously, and -- to a point -- that's what the Prince Music Theater provides. They are to be commended for going back to O'Hara's original book, rather than rewriting it or reverting to one of the "improved" versions done in recent years. O'Hara's script may be a little old-fashioned, but it's flavorful and funny. PMT also smartly reinstates the strange and unsettling "I'm Talking to My Pal," cut from the original production for fear that things were just too dark.

But the staging is a bit of a scramble, with some excellent elements coexisting alongside aspects that don't work at all. The early nightclub scenes are nearly all pitch-perfect, and even the relative flatness of the staging helps convey the sense of period. But the scenes outside the club -- on the street, in Joey and Vera's love nest -- feel awkward. There seems to be a concept at work, incorporating American art by Hopper and O'Keeffe, that makes no sense. (For the record, the original director, Lori Steinberg, is no longer associated with the production. The playbill credits only a production supervisor, Laurence Maslon.)

The performances too are uneven. I like the spin that Trent Dawson puts on Joey -- not the usual sexy sleazeball, but a kind of sweet, lost John Doe type (think Jimmy Stewart or Gary Cooper). He's not the flashy dancer we expect in the role (the first Joey was Gene Kelly), but he's resourceful and sings well. Christine Andreas has all the elements to be a perfect Vera -- movie star glamour, fine timing and period style. Too bad she sometimes undercuts herself by over-singing her best material. "Bewitched, Bothered and Bewildered" gets a full-scale cabaret treatment that sounds wrong in this context.

But when Rodgers and Hart take center stage, all is right with the world. Even the reduced orchestrations can't dim the wonder of the score, one of the greatest in American musical theater. (By the way, if you think you know Joey from watching the Sinatra movie, guess again -- that's a hodgepodge that bears only an occasional resemblance to the original, and omits much of the best music.)

With all due respect to Mr. Atkinson, there's nothing more refreshing than this "foul well." Go on, take a sip -- it's good for you.