Theatre in Review: Storyville (York Theatre Company)

	Photo: Carol Rosegg

You'd think a musical called Storyville might have a better grasp of, well, story. There is enormous potential buried inside this material, but in its current incarnation, it is too scattered, too focused on nonessentials to have much impact. There are plenty of production numbers, however.

The show's title refers to the notorious red-light district that flourished in New Orleans from the mid-1890s until 1917, when the Army and Navy, concerned about what used to be called "social hygiene," got it shut down. Storyville, the musical, is both an elegy and an origin story. Ed Bullins' libretto entangles his characters in a web of corruption, the neighborhood's anything-goes ethos providing a refuge for racial minorities and social misfits until it explodes with violence. The city intervenes, closing up the area and dispersing its residents -- inadvertently causing them to spread the gospel of jazz up north. Thus does a local music craze become a new American art form.

The action begins when Butch "Cobra" Brown, a prizefighter, arrives in town, ready to take part in the city's rich musical culture and reinvent himself as a musician. Despite his pugilist background, Butch is a little slow on the uptake; for example, his trumpet is filched from him almost instantly, leaving him without a way of making a living. He also falls, fast and hard, for Tigre Savoy, the star of a cabaret/brothel operated by Countess Willy Danger. (Countess Willy, who struts around in a tuxedo and sports a monocle, like a visitor from Weimar Berlin, is the show's emcee and occasional narrator.) Tigre isn't just one of the girls, however; she is going places, possibly to Europe on the arm of Baron Fontainebleau, a French drug smuggler who is in cahoots with Mayor Mickey Mulligan. Adding their own special brands of trouble are Hot Licks Sam, a trumpeter who doesn't want any competition from Butch, and Fifi Foxy, one of the Countess' girls, who sees Tigre as one big obstacle on the road to success. Tensions are further stoked when the Baron, named King of the Mardi Gras, chooses Tigre as his queen, and Butch is conned into taking part in a rigged fight, which ends in a killing. And there's the little matter of the contraband drugs stashed in a warehouse up the river ...

With so much going on, Storyville should be positively teeming with drama, but it isn't for two main reasons. First, the characters have no meat on their bones. Neither Butch nor Tigre gets a number laying out their dreams and goals, a decision that keeps them at a permanent remove. Fifi's character veers between comedy relief and scheming hellion, depending on the scene; she's not really convincing in either guise. Similarly, Hot Licks Sam is rendered too thinly to be of much interest, and the Baron and the Mayor are cut from 100% pure cardboard, to be inserted into the story only whenever the plot needs goosing.

The second, and even more crucial, missing element is context, a way of looking at the phenomenon of Storyville and its relationship to the larger world. Storyville is a cockeyed paradise where the races can mingle and any sort of pleasure can be had for the right fee; it's also a prison of sorts whose occupants are constantly looking to get up and out. The characters' complicated relationship to their milieu, and its effect on the birth of jazz, are implicit in the script, but none of it ever gets explored because the creative team is too busy staging hot-time-in-the-old-town-tonight production numbers, most of which lack any real jazz flavor.

Mildred Kayden's score has its moments. The show opens on the right note with a pair of rousers: "Welcome to New Orleans" and "Back O' Town Rag," that do a pretty good job of setting the scene. "Makin' It" clues us in to Fifi's jealousy and ambition, and there's a nice duet, "Prove It," that shows Butch and Tigre getting interested in each other against their better judgment. But these are hardly enough to make for a powerful first act. Another featured spot for Fifi, "Can Tigre Become a Lady?" suffers from the flat, generic lyrics that plague the score. One of the more specific numbers, a sassy on-stage high-stepper, "The Blue Book," is mildly mystifying until you learn from Wikipedia it refers to a bordello guide that was distributed to tourists.

If nothing else, Storyville does us a favor by introducing Zakiya Young, whose Tigre exudes presence and intelligence; given relatively meager material, she creates an appealingly complex mix of charm and ruthlessness; she knows she's too good for the Storyville life but hasn't any idea where to go next. She also sings beautifully, making an especially nice thing of a rueful second-act ballad titled "Demi-Monde." As Butch, Kyle Robert Carter can't transcend his sketchy material, but he makes a good impression every time he cuts loose in a dance number. Debra Walton puts a lot of effort into the role of Fifi, but it just won't budge. As a local conjure woman who has little to do until she's given a big gospel shouter, "The Best is Yet to Be," Natasha Yvette Williams delivers authoritative vocals. It's a treat to see that old Broadway pro Ernestine Jackson, but the role of Countess Willy offers her next to nothing to do.

As always, York is blessed to have a gifted designer, James Morgan, as its artistic director. His unit set, featuring brick walls covered with faded posters and images of real Storyville denizens and a proscenium header that offers a sepia-tone view of the New Orleans skyline, is a distinctive piece of work that accommodates a large cast and on-stage band. Michael Gottlieb's smart, subtle lighting creates a number of indoor and outdoor looks and meticulously sculpts the performers during the big numbers. Nicole Wee's costumes include some dazzlingly diaphanous and heavily beaded gowns for the Countess' girls. Janie Bullard's sound design is more aggressive than what one usually experiences at the York, but this may be due to the show's larger seven-musician band.

Mercedes Ellington's musical staging has a number of witty touches, especially a jazz funeral that winds through the theatre's center aisle. But the director, Bill Castellino, hasn't been able to impose clarity on a musical that neither offers a compelling love story nor gives theatrical shape to its larger point about the cultural impact of jazz. (Whoever had the idea of having Butch and Hot Licks Sam mime playing the trumpet -- which is really played by a band member -- deserves a good talking-to; it's a bizarrely artificial convention and it undermines both characters.) It's telling that when the Baron, breaking all of the unspoken racial rules, pairs off with Tigre at the Mardi Gras, it generates little or no dramatic tension. It's also surprising that when all hell breaks loose in the streets, we only hear about it from Countess Willy, who merely says everyone had a rough day. There's a great American saga -- something gritty, raw, and magnificent -- buried somewhere in this material, but its creators haven't managed to find it. Instead, they've reduced it to a routine musical comedy, and not even a proficient one. -- David Barbour