STAGE REVIEW : ‘Guys, Dolls’ . . . Nicely, Nicely Done

Everyone always says Broadway’s a crap shoot, but this “Guys and Dolls” is as close as the theater gets today to a sure thing.

Jerry Zaks’ cartoony version of the beloved 1950 “musical fable,” which opened Monday night at the Martin Beck, is unevenly cast at the top. But the playful brainstorm of a production is brash, bright and adorable--and, with Faith Prince’s Adelaide, boasts one of those old-style, over-the-top Broadway performances that declares an actor a very big theater star.

Like anyone who directs a revival, Zaks had the choice of trying to find some heat in a faithful re-creation or tossing out expectations and daring to see the material as new. Zaks, who completely redid “Anything Goes” when he worked at the Lincoln Center Theater, is hardly foolish enough to touch Abe Burrows’ irresistible Runyonesque book or the Frank Loesser nonstop hit-parade of songs--both of which (despite tinny new orchestrations and over-amplification) work in tandem to put most of today’s musicals to shame.

But Zaks & Co. have transformed the show into a funny, gaudy, dance-happy, meticulously detailed comic book--Lt. Brannigan even wears Dick Tracy’s flashy yellow coat. And, rather than compete with memories of the original or the movie, Zaks cast most of his actors against type.

Thus, instead of imitating the hangdog Sam Levene or the matinee-idol Frank Sinatra as Nathan Detroit, the role goes winsome with the extravagantly endearing Nathan Lane. And rather than pretend anyone could duplicate Stubby Kaye in “Sit Down, You’re Rockin’ the Boat,” Zaks gives us a completely opposite Nicely-Nicely in the gentle Walter Bobbie.

By now, careful readers will have noticed that nothing has been said yet about the romantic leads, Sky Masterson, the high-rolling gambler, and Sarah Brown, the Mission “doll.” This is no oversight.

We have here, if you can picture it, a “Guys and Dolls” that works despite one--OK, one-and-a-half--of its four main actors. Peter Gallagher, best known from “sex, lies, and videotape” and currently “The Player,” is good as Sky--better than one might expect, but not the powerhouse for which we keep hoping. This intelligent actor has the big-jawed looks, the quick grin, the dusky voice for this smoothie of a character--previously owned by Robert Alda and Marlon Brando--and he holds the stage with ease.

Gallagher doesn’t have great flair, however, and, given the Sarah he has been given, he also doesn’t have much inspiration. Josie de Guzman, the understudy brought in late in the preview period, is not strong on charm, nuance or vocal intonation. She works hard, but she looks tired. She and Gallagher do some serious kissing in a valiant attempt to shoot a little passion into the relationship, but one sits there thinking about how many actresses in this town would have sold relatives for such a role.

The lapse is especially odd because casting, to the tiniest role, is otherwise impeccable. They have faces here, from the sly openness of J.K. Simmons’ Benny South-street to the stumpy wheeze of Ernie Sabella’s Harry the Horse, from the oversized menace of Herschel Sparber’s gigantic Big Jule to the unexpected comic turn--like Miss Grundy with hormones--of Ruth Williamson’s general in the Save-a-Soul army.

And then there is Adelaide. Prince, the only actor to survive “Nick & Nora” intact, grabs the role of the adenoidal queen of the Hot Box Revue and treats it as the career-maker it will be for her. While Vivian Blaine played Nathan’s anxious moll as a humorous realistic character, Prince goes for a cross between Betty Boop and a dainty lady trucker. She walks with teeny steps, arranges herself in a demure pose, then attacks her “Adelaide’s Lament” with an unstoppable combination of tiny hiccups, little squeaks and big belts.

Lane--one of the great eyebrow actors in the business--makes Detroit, proprietor of the oldest established permanent floating crap-game in New York, into a sweet, flustered workaholic. His song with Adelaide is duet heaven.

There’s plenty of dance in this “Guys and Dolls,” and someone named Mark Hummel even tried to improve on Loesser by writing additional “dance music” for big numbers. But the dances--including a slick number in Havana and one with tumbling crap-shooters in the sewer--are worth it.

For starters, Broadway newcomer Christopher Chadman has a joyful comic sense and, thus, joins Susan Stroman as one of the choreographic discoveries of the season. What’s more, this is a chorus that happens to include Gary Chryst, one of the great character dancers of our generation, as well as Scott Wise, who won a Tony in “Jerome Robbins’ Broadway.”

William Ivey Long’s costumes are gaudy and natty. Tony Walton’s sets, including a sewer as epic as the whale’s belly in “Pinocchio,” are simultaneously graceful and lovably garish. This show is about a Save-a-Soul Mission that wants “to do good on Broadway.” And so it does.

‘Guys and Dolls’

Peter Gallagher: Sky Masterson

Josie de Guzman: Sarah Brown

Nathan Lane: Nathan Detroit

Walter Bobbie: Nicely-Nicely

Faith Prince: Adelaide

Dodger Productions/Roger Berlind/John F. Kennedy Center for the Performing Arts present a revival of the musical fable based on Damon Runyon characters. Music and lyrics by Frank Loesser. Book by Jo Swerling and Abe Burrows. Director Jerry Zaks. Choreography Christopher Chadman. Sets Tony Walton. Costumes William Ivey Long. Lighting Paul Gallo.