Patinkin a Master of the House in Concert

It’s a big stage, but Mandy knows how to fill it. Yes, Mandy Patinkin returned to the Dorothy Chandler Pavilion Thursday night, this time solo, save his crack accompanist Paul Ford. Seventeen years ago Patinkin played Che in “Evita” here. He demanded the same, smaller dressing room, for nostalgia’s sake, and paid homage to the show in his encore, when he sang “Oh What a Circus,” Che’s entrance song. He sang the bejesus out of it. He was marking territory. The name Antonio Banderas did not have to be mentioned to be obliterated.

Patinkin has been perfecting his concert act for seven years now, and he is masterful with his audience, which is putty in his hands. He plays guardian to the classic songs he sings, offering each one, whether from Stephen Sondheim, Rodgers and Hammerstein, Harry Chapin or Cole Porter, as jewels that are polished by his interpretive powers. But these are unusually personal and highly charged interpretations, as much about the singer as the song.

When Patinkin does “Ya Got Trouble” from “The Music Man,” for instance, he gets red and contorted with fury at the thought of those River City boys spending time in pool halls. It’s as if the breezy traveling salesman Harold Hill had left a couple of maimed schoolboys in his wake. His Billy Bigelow (represented by both “Soliloquy” and “If I Loved You” from “Carousel”) was much more appropriate to his thrashing temper and devotional tenderness.

He handles the crowd like a first-rate comic--pushy without being nasty. He brought up three audience members to lead the crowd in singing “Honey Bun” from “South Pacific.” When one man said he was a producer of “Showgirls,” Patinkin ordered him off the stage, pronto.

Patinkin has always showcased his personal agony when singing; those who know his work are familiar with the eyes squeezed shut, the rocking back and forth, and the sudden, anguished loud notes. To this repertory he added a new pose: When particularly in the grasp of an emotion, he half-squats and grabs his pants at the thighs, clenching the fabric in tight fists. Let’s just say he doesn’t come off as vain here.

He sounds great. His strikingly pure tenor was put to best use in “Bring Him Home” from “Les Miserables,” which he sang with refreshing simplicity, standing, hands at side. This was very moving.

His favorite position finds him seated, legs spread, hands on knees, leaning in toward the audience as he serenades them, clearly an intimate act for him. Patinkin gives a lot of himself, and he has accumulated many fans over the years, with rabid factions. A woman named Kim, from the Mandy Patinkin Fan Club, made her presence heard on Thursday night, to the point where The Man had to tell her to be quiet. Note to other club members: He’ll be appearing in Palm Desert Jan. 7-8.

Patinkin is at the top of his game, supremely confident as a singer who has etched out a highly idiosyncratic style. With the help of Ford’s graceful piano, he is keyed in to the music, which he lets unlock his anger and passion in an extraordinarily naked way. In order to love him, you’ve got to like him.

* “Mandy Patinkin in Concert,” Dorothy Chandler Pavilion, 135 N. Grand Ave., tonight at 8, $15-$65. (213) 365-3500, (714) 740-2000; also, Jan. 7-8, 8 p.m., McCallum Theatre, 73000 Fred Waring Drive, Palm Desert, $30-$50. (619) 340-ARTS, (619) 220-TIXS. Running time: 2 hours.