STAGE REVIEW : A Bewildering ‘Pal Joey’

To borrow a lyric from its most famous song, let’s see how bewitched, bothered and bewildered we are by the Long Beach Civic Light Opera revival of Rodgers and Hart’s “Pal Joey.”

A couple of scenes in the second act qualify as bewitching. “Den of Iniquity” is a seriously steamy bedroom duet between rich lady Vera Simpson (Dixie Carter) and her younger lover Joey (Peter Reardon). From my well-positioned seat, I could almost see the sweat. Of course, those who were farther back in the enormous Terrace Theatre probably felt more like private eyes hired by the rich lady’s husband, examining the action through a telephoto lens. Still, this number must have been quite a shock in 1940.

Then there is the scene where these two break it off. You can feel their passion here as much as in that bedroom scene--both in Carter’s attempt to stand tall and Reardon’s rising panic. John O’Hara knew how to write soap opera dialogue, and these two know how to play it.

Still, the show and David Steinberg’s staging are finally more bothering and bewildering than bewitching.

It begins innocuously, with some rousing tapping by the chorus line in a Chicago nightspot, led by Joey, the new emcee. Choreographer Randy Skinner, who also plays the on-stage dance captain, has his troops in order for this, their biggest number.

Then we see Joey making the moves on innocent young Linda (Rita Baretta) in front of a pet shop window. Within a few moments of their meeting, they’re professing their mutual love in the score’s second most famous song, “I Could Write a Book.” While we might be able to understand Joey using a line like this as part of his come-on, it’s downright bewildering that his target sings along. The song is wasted; it should have been saved until later, when it might really have meant something.

But would it have ever meant much, coming out of Joey’s mouth? The most bothersome aspect of the show is that it hinges so much on our fascination with this two-bit self-promoter.

The 1957 film version may have sanitized and sentimentalized Joey’s story (it made Vera a widow, so their affair is not so illicit, and dropped the “Den of Iniquity” number), but at least it gave us a reason to care about Joey. It moved him from total self-absorption to the point where he could actually defend someone else, defying his benefactor in the process.

Here, if Joey were to write a book, it should be titled “How to Be Your Own Best Friend.” The show depends too much on the magnetism of its leading man.

Reardon has boyish charm, a good voice, and a solid training in musical theater. But, at least under these circumstances, he doesn’t have the star quality that Sinatra provided in the movie.

Carter has some of that, at least when she speaks. But when her singing ascends into the higher register, her voice sounds dainty, over-refined, thick with vibrato. It’s not right for the role of brash, tough-minded Vera.

Talk about brash--Elaine Stritch is on hand. But don’t use the restroom during the show or you may miss her. She has only one scene, an amusing little novelty number called “Zip,” which has nothing to do with the rest of the show. She did the same scene in 1952 in an acclaimed Broadway revival.

Stritch gets her laughs, but one wonders why no one bothered to make some effort to connect her number to the rest of the story. The movie did precisely that, assigning the song to Vera and revealing something about her past as well as her present.

The show hasn’t much spectacle--just those peppy dancers and one dream sequence, when smoke and two giant fans emerge from backstage, providing a backdrop to Joey’s wavering between his two “dames.” Yet unlike the movie, there is no contest here. There is nothing between Joey and Linda, and there isn’t much, other than sex, between Joey and Vera. The real affair here is Joey’s with himself--and that’s not quite enough for a 3,000-plus-seat hall.

‘Pal Joey’

Peter Reardon: Joey Evans

Frank Kopyc: Mike Spears

Tina Johnson: Gladys Bumps

Randy Skinner: Victor

Rita Baretta: Linda English

Dixie Carter: Vera Simpson

Paul Del Vecchio: Ernest

Elaine Stritch: Melba Snyder

Henry Polic II: Ludlow Lowell

A Long Beach Civic Light Opera production. Music by Richard Rodgers. Lyrics by Lorenz Hart. Book by John O’Hara. Directed by David Steinberg. Musical staging and choreography by Randy Skinner. Musical direction by John McDaniel. Sets Randy Wright. Lights Kim Killingsworth. Costumes Nancy Konrardy. Sound Johnathan Deans. Hair-makeup Elena M. Breckinridge. Production stage manager Lee Byron. Production manager Donald David Hill.