Theatre in Review: The Best is Yet to Come: The Music of Cy Coleman (59E59) Cy Coleman was Broadway's jazzman. Yes, he wrote all sorts of music for his dozen or so Broadway shows -- country ballads, torch songs, even a mock operetta -- but what he is most likely to be remembered for is how, working of some of the era's best lyricists (Carolyn Leigh, Dorothy Fields, Comden and Green, and that's just for openers) he came up with so many impudent, funny, carefree contributions to the songwriter's art. Any random sample would have to include "Nobody Does It Like Me," from Seesaw ("If there's a wrong way to play it/A wrong way to say it/Nobody does it like me"), "On the Other Side of the Tracks," from Little Me ("Gonna put my shadows behind me/Give my inhibitions the ax/And tomorrow morning you'll find me/On the other side of the tracks"), and the pop hit "Witchcraft" ("Those fingers in my hair/That come hither stare/That strips my conscience bare/It's witchcraft.") In each case -- and in so many more -- he devised a melody that fit the words like an expensive fur wrap. The truth of these propositions is being conclusively demonstrated at 59E59, where The Best is Yet to Come is practicing its own special brand of witchcraft. All the elements for magic-making are in place: a six-pack of golden voices, an elegantly sassy band, and the scintillating songs of Coleman and his many collaborators. David Zippel, himself one of those collaborators (on City of Angels), has devised a fleet and flippant overview of Coleman's output, led by Billy Stritch, who sings, serves s musical director, and every so often takes to the piano, jazzily deconstructing a Coleman melody with surgical skill. It's nothing against him and his male colleagues that the evening belongs to the ladies. Coleman's shows are loaded with the kind of larger-than-life heroines who practically define the mid-century musical. Thus Rachel York, sleek and leggy in a satin miniskirt, sasses her way through a jazzed-up arrangement of "Hey, Look Me Over," from the Lucille Ball vehicle Wildcat, and proves her torch song bona fides with a number titled "Come Summer." Sally Mayes, the big-voiced queen of comic disenchantment, turns "Nobody Does It Like Me" in to an exercise in self-revelation; her approach to "With Every Breath I Take," from City of Angels, is a dark aria of irreparable heartbreak. And Lillias White is merely electrifies with "Don't Ask a Lady," written for a revival of Little Me. "What's here to thrill ya/Ain't memorabilia," she sings, and, as if to prove the point, she tears up the theatre "The Oldest Profession,' which she introduced in The Life, a backhanded tribute to Times Square's bad old days. The number is a little squirrely -- it tries a little too hard to wring laughs out of the grim facts of a street-level whore's life -- but, in White's hands, attention must be paid. In contrast, David Burnham's easy manner and big voice don't get a real showcase until the second half with a fine, school-of-Sinatra rendition of "Witchcraft." The always genial Howard McGillin is a little bit of an odd man out here, his gentleman's tenor not being strictly ideal for Coleman's slipping, sliding blue notes and his lyricists' wisecracking ways. Still, he makes the most of "I'd Give the World," a Coleman-Zippel ballad making its professional premiere, and both he and Burnham partner genially with the ladies in various numbers. Aside from his inimitable piano stylings, Stritch has plenty of fun with White, delivering the title tune from Little Me. For the purposes of celebrating Coleman, Stage A at 59E59 has been turned into an art deco bandstand, rendered by Douglas W. Schmidt as a kind of Cubist deconstruction of a piano. Michael Gilliam's lighting covers the stage with pools of saturated color, creating the right late-show atmosphere. William Ivey Long has dressed everyone in flattering evening wear. Jonathan Burke's sound design keeps the lyrics intelligible at all times while providing room for Don Sebesky's swingy orchestrations. My only real reservation about The Best is Yet to Come is that there could have been more of it. You could fill an entire second with the likes of "Here's to Us," from Little Me; "There's Gotta Be Something Better Than This" and "The Rhythm of Life," from Sweet Charity;" and "Someone Wonderful I Missed," from I Love My Wife -- and that's just off the top of my head. (On the Twentieth Century, possibly his most distinctive score, is almost entirely unrepresented here.) And, while I wouldn't kill to hear Sally Mayes take on "I'm Way Ahead," the wrenching eleven-o'clock number from Seesaw, I'd seriously think about it. A slightly expanded format would have allowed for more emotional variety -- right now, the parade of showstoppers may be a little too pronounced -- and would also have allowed for some amusing and instructive chat between the songs. In any case, I feel we haven't seen the last of The Best is Yet to Come, which is far too high-powered a treat for only a six-week Off Broadway run. It's certain to be catnip to musical theatre fans, and, for anyone interested in sophisticated music and slyly amusing lyrics, it's more than worth a look.--David Barbour 
|
