STAGE REVIEW : ‘Lonesome’ Traces Elvis’ Rise, Demise

The single most striking image in Alan Bleasdale’s “Are You Lonesome Tonight?” is the sight of the young Elvis Presley lovingly singing “Are You Lonesome Tonight?” to the older, drugged out, bloated man he was to become.

It is a moment that lifts this British-born show, now in its American premiere at the San Diego Repertory Theatre, more than a cut above the gaudy tributes that usually pass for commentary on Elvis.

To Bleasdale’s credit, he dives into the Presley mythology with both eyes open and comes up with some of the threads that connect Presley’s early rags-to-riches story to the tale of the self-destructive man who died, suddenly, a dozen years ago.

He captures the poverty of Presley’s youth, alludes in a flashback to the shame of seeing his father locked up for writing a bad check, lingers over his mother’s constant reminder of the twin he had who died at birth and dwells on the theme of abandonment--by the brother who died, his mother who died when he was in the Army, and his wife and friends who left him one by one.

The richest ore Bleasdale finds is the groping on the part of the aging Presley to come to terms with his younger self.

But Bleasdale glides over the character of the young Presley, using him chiefly to sing some of Presley’s greatest hits, such as “Heartbreak Hotel” and “Good Rockin’ Tonight.”

Why did the young Presley give up 50% of his earnings to his manager, Col. Tom Parker? How did his relationship with wife Priscilla begin, falter and end? Instead of seeing the older Presley remembering his mother’s death, could we not see the younger Elvis experiencing it?

Even with these gaping holes, “Are You Lonesome Tonight?” seems the best stage treatment of Presley to date. Director George Ferencz brings out the tension between the older and younger Presleys and between the semi-stupor of the life inside Presley’s Memphis estate, Graceland, and the seedy hotel where Presley’s former bodyguard and friend plots to betray him.

One of the highlights for any Elvis fan will be the nearly dozen rousing songs, powerfully sung both by Rick Sparks, who does a remarkable job in re-creating Presley’s “1968 Comeback Special,” and by Sam Woodhouse, producing director of the San Diego Rep, who makes his first appearance on the Lyceum Stage as the older Presley. An on-stage four-piece band, under the direction of Bob Jewett, backs up the songs masterfully, picking up the beat and fading, sometimes into silence, when appropriate.

The Elvises are also well supported by Drew Tombrello as Duke, the friend who betrays him, and Duane Daniels as Duke’s dimwitted pal, Jerry. Brothers Tavis Ross and J. Michael Ross bring intelligence and depth to two of Presley’s friends at Graceland, torn between the desire to stand by him and the need to flee rather than watch what he is doing to himself.

Bill Dunnam radiates devilish ill will as Col. Parker, but his character, as written by Bleasdale, is the most flat and caricatured of the roles. Lillian Byrd is able to bring more to the part of Presley’s mother, Gladys, than she is to Priscilla in a fleetingly brief scene. Similarly, one wishes Jake Schmidt were given more to do as Presley’s father, Vernon.

Victoria Petrovich’s inventive set design and Brenda Berry’s lighting allow the action to glide smoothly between past and present and from venue to venue, capturing the chandeliered opulence of Presley’s red-curtained estate, the drabness of a tiny hotel room, a brightly lit bar with a jukebox, a glittering performance stage.

Part of the continuing fascination with Presley is that he, like Marilyn Monroe, was the American dream gone wrong. The scores of books and plays and movies that have come out about them have one question at the center: Why?

“Are You Lonesome Tonight?” doesn’t have the feel of the answer, but it does shed some light on the loneliness that can emerge in childhood and can, if unchecked, grow into a malignant tumor by adulthood. Ironically, if Elvis had been able to make peace between his older and younger selves as this play suggests, one wonders if he would have continued to destroy himself.

At 79 Horton Plaza, San Diego, Tuesdays-Saturdays at 8 p.m. and Sundays at 7, Sunday matinees at 2 p.m. and one Saturday matinee Sept. 16, through Oct. 1. Tickets: $17-22; (619) 235-8025.