POP MUSIC REVIEW : All-Starr Show: Ringo’s Charm Is Bottom Line

Ringo Starr spent most of his own show on Saturday at the Pacific Amphitheatre in eclipse behind his helpful friends. But at the very end, the fourth Beatle stepped out from behind his drums and put an engaging stamp on the proceedings.

Starr, who ends the first solo tour of his career tonight at the Greek Theatre, got off to a flat start fronting his All-Starr Band. Decked out in a ringmaster’s silver tux emblazoned with stars, and jumping up and down or shifting back and forth from foot to foot in an awkward dance, Ringo had the uneasy look of an entertainer trying too hard to make up in enthusiasm for what he lacks in natural gifts.

Starr’s song introductions were perfunctory, with the famous drollery that has given him his niche in pop culture nowhere in evidence. “No No Song,” a novelty hit about saying goodby to immoderate habits, received a hurried treatment in which the newly on-the-wagon Starr failed to exploit the song’s comic possibilities. “Yellow Submarine” was forced and premature. Only a mood of fun and bonhomie could have made the old Beatles sing-along work, and Starr had established nothing of the sort.

After three songs, Ringo retreated to his drum kit. He seemed more at home there, smiling and keeping the beat with a sway of his head and a flap of his ponytail. He sang four oldies from his seated perch, but mainly let All-Starrs Dr. John, Levon Helm, Rick Danko, Billy Preston, Clarence Clemons, Joe Walsh and Nils Lofgren take turns in the spotlight.

Then, at the end, Starr came back out front and put a warm shine on the night. Through a show-closing run of hits--”Photograph,” “You’re Sixteen” and an encore version of “With a Little Help From My Friends”--Ringo was a smiling, delightful neo-vaudevillian who capered about joyfully while making all the hokey moves that fell flat earlier seem somehow full of life.

Starr also tossed out some nice deadpan Ringo-isms. He sang “You’re not 16” to an audience that probably averaged more than twice that. And he mused on the absurdity of the meaningless, pre-planned pop encore: “You know we’re coming back. We know we’re coming back. Show biz. Show biz is my life.”

As for the All-Starrs, the World’s Wealthiest Bar Band might have been a more descriptive name, as they knocked out predictable favorites with few attempts at risk or surprise. Still, each member except Walsh contributed some strong moments to a 26-song set that lasted longer than two hours.

Keyboardist Preston was like an explosive off-the-bench scorer in basketball, providing instant energy when called upon. His duet with Clemons, “You’re a Friend of Mine,” was especially spirited and comradely.

After Ringo’s awkward start, Dr. John lifted the show with the funky New Orleans parade anthem “Iko Iko,” during which he strutted in an elaborately feathered Mardi Gras headdress. Danko and Helm, both alumni of the Band, harmonized in their familiar style. Along with Lofgren, the E Street Band guitarist whose singing and playing are both choked with impressive emotion, they provided most of the earnest passion in a show given over mainly to lighthearted songs.

Walsh turned in some good guitar work, but he squandered his spotlight moments, which included a slogging “Rocky Mountain Way.” For some reason, Walsh figured his past as an Eagle qualified him to sing “Desperado” and “Life in the Fast Lane,” songs that other Eagles originally sang. Walsh’s stringy voice certainly was no qualification.

Session drummer Jim Keltner was on hand as well, proving, in a troika with Starr and Helm, that more drummers do not necessarily make for more interesting drumming. (Starr’s son, Zack Starkey, filled in on drums during his dad’s turns out front.) The beat throughout was as basic as three times one.

In the end, luckily, Starr’s appeal was equally basic: He’s Ringo, and all he’s gotta do is act naturally.