‘LIFE IN THE THEATRE’ : JACK GILFORD IN A ONE-MAN SHOW

Nice to see you again, Uncle Jack. It’s been so long. Make some room for him by the fireside. Now, tell us some of those stories.

Jack Gilford loves stories.

He even has a title for what he does at the Pasadena Playhouse--”My Life in the Theatre, or How I Became an Overnight Success in 40 Years.” What he does . . . well, you know Uncle Jack. He does take his time getting to the point.

Gilford and that endearing face of his, combining familial warmth and coy mischief, is intact as ever. This two-hour show, resurrected after some four years, is in some ways as autobiographical as the title implies. A life in the theater, certainly, must be as scattershot as this evening.

To be sure, he runs off a very respectable list of successes. Herr Schultz in “Cabaret.” Hysterium in “A Funny Thing Happened on the Way to the Forum.” He even played in a Met production of “Die Fledermaus.” And he adds emotional punch to the list with heartfelt and, yes, creaky renditions of songs from writers he’s worked with over the years, like Yip Harburg , Kander and Ebb, Bock and Harnick.

He punctuates things with various animal impressions (“This is an eagle who’s just heard that his daughter is pregnant”) and goes even farther when imitating split pea soup coming to a boil or a subway passenger trying to stay awake so he doesn’t miss his stop. When Gilford turns his face into a piece of animated sculpture, you get the sense that these have not been 40 wasted years.

The evening, however, has more than a few wasted minutes. That same pea soup bit boils over into nonsense as he pours on the shtick (“This is pea soup with croutons . . . with croutons and noodles . . . with croutons, noodles and ham”). Ham, indeed. The jokes and stories aren’t orchestrated. They’re more like the contents of a rummage bag spilled out on the floor with Gilford picking out anything that catches his eye.

We’re glad he spotted his old Cracker Jack commercials, five of which he screens. But it feels weird, sitting in the Pasadena Playhouse and realizing that TV ads are about the best this show has to offer.

The show has as little arrangement to it as the jokes, and the real clue to the problem lies in Gilford’s past: vaudeville and the clubs. The mentality in those milieus was keep it going and keep ‘em laughing--in that order. Form, now a big consideration in the conceptualized performance of a Billy Crystal or a Robin Williams, was an afterthought in those days. Today’s audiences expect form, and you could feel the laughs in Gilford’s audience losing gas too early.

Musical director and pianist Joe Bousard worked hard to keep the show buoyant, but we weren’t all that sad to see Uncle Jack say goodby. Love that face, though.

Performances at 39 S. El Molino Ave., Pasadena, are Thursday and Friday, 8 p.m.; Saturday, 5 and 9 p.m.; Sunday, 2 and 7 p.m. Ends Sunday ((818) 356-7529)).