Yes, Indeed: Ain’t Nothin’ but Blues

No tricks up the sleeve of “It Ain’t Nothin’ but the Blues,” the musical revue now at the Geffen Playhouse.

Virtually everything about it is straightforward: its chronology, its perpetual use of slide projections, its “How y’all doin’?” banter with the audience. Everything, that is, except some of the old songs’ double-entendres, the ones about snakes and grass and locks and keys and such. They’re at once straightforward and wonderfully duplicitous. That’s the blues genre, expansive and far-flung: the voices of people dogged by the reaper but buoyed by life. The music always was big enough to cover titanic woe and sexual service with a smile.

The gorgeously sung Geffen edition marks the show’s Los Angeles premiere. Conceived by co-author, ensemble member and father figure Ron Taylor, “It Ain’t Nothin’ but the Blues” began as a one-act high school touring project under the banner of the Denver Center Theatre Company. Expanded, it has played the San Diego Repertory Theatre, the Alabama Shakespeare Festival and New Jersey’s Crossroads Theatre Company, before heading into New York--first off-Broadway, currently on.

Does it break any new ground? No. Even by revue standards it’s skeletal. “It Ain’t Nothin’ but the Blues” isn’t anything but its blues songs, bam-bam-bam, more than three dozen, sung by a cast of seven, confidently backed by a band of six.

Does it matter that it isn’t conceptually up to anything? For some, yes, especially for those who loved the rangy, inspired cross-currents of the Savion Glover/George C. Wolfe project, “Bring In ‘Da Noise, Bring In ‘Da Funk,” which used a heavy blues vocabulary in remarkable ways.

But for many folks, “Blues” will be plenty, because with performers such as these, plenty is . . . a lot. When those rich gospel ensemble harmonies hit you, as they do in the Act 1 finale, “Catch on Fire,” you’re hearing the sound of a world both heavenly and earthly.

Directed and co-written by Randal Myler, whose credits include theatrical tributes to Hank Williams and Janis Joplin, “It Ain’t Nothin’ but the Blues” manages to lay down a bit of historical groundwork for the music. The cast is introduced by way of two African songs (“Odun De” and “Niwah Wechi”), while images of tribal life dominate scenic designer Robin Sanford Roberts’ concert-style setting. The imagery shifts quickly to lithographs depicting the slave trade in horrific action.

I’ve never been much for the sort of slide show accompanying “It Ain’t Nothin’ but the Blues”; flashing the audience image after image of Robert Johnson, Bessie Smith, John Lee Hooker, and on and on, gets the job done--but conventionally. It’s facile historical context, illustrating history that’s anything but facile. I doubt the devastating “Strange Fruit” ever needs to be capped in performance by a photograph of a lynched black man. The song takes care of everything.

Act 1 is devoted to the rural blues born of slavery, of field hollers and spirituals. The leaner, fleeter second act heads north to Chicago, for the urban soundscape. Each member of the cast nabs his or her moments.

Taylor’s take on “I’m Your Hoochie Coochie Man” stacks nicely alongside Eloise Laws’ rendition of “I Put a Spell on You,” twin studies in seduction. Mark Leroy Jackson slithers his way through “Crawlin’ King Snake.” Janiva Magness, besides having a really cool name, delivers a really cool version of “Fever.” Jewel Tompkins is strong enough not to need any visual competition on “Strange Fruit.” And in Act 1 especially, Billy Valentine sidles up to Robert Johnson’s “Walkin’ Blues” and “Cross Road Blues” with particular, authentic skill.

Valentine doesn’t hard-sell any of his material--and it’s much appreciated, amid the (semi-forced) transitional fills and the show’s tendency toward making damned sure we’re having a good time. That’s not to suggest we’re anywhere near “Five Guys Named Moe,” the Louis Jordan tribute, rife with jump-blues but rife also with the kind of audience participation that gives me a rash. Still, now and then, the ingratiating Taylor falls prey to the same.

The music Taylor loves so much--sung and played so well here, in the main--doesn’t need that sort of assistance.

* “It Ain’t Nothin’ but the Blues,” Geffen Playhouse, 10886 Le Conte Ave., Westwood Village. Tuesdays-Thursdays, 7:30 p.m.; Fridays, 8 p.m.; Saturdays, 4 and 8:30 p.m.; Sundays, 2 and 7 p.m. Also 2 p.m. Dec. 8, 22 and 29, and New Year’s Eve, 8 p.m. No shows Dec. 24-25 and Jan. 1. Ends Jan. 2. $20-$42 (New Year’s Eve, $60-$75). (310) 208-5454. Running time: 2 hours, 10 minutes.

The Cast

Mark Leroy Jackson, Eloise Laws, Kingsley Leggs, Janiva Magness, Ron Taylor, Jewel Tompkins, Billy Valentine, Dan Wheetman

The Band

Kirk Arthur, Kevin Cooper, Andrew Rollins, DeBorah Sharpe-Taylor, Louis Taylor, Kevin Toney

Written by Charles Bevel, Lita Gaithers, Randal Myler, Ron Taylor and Dan Wheetman. Directed by Randal Myler. Musical director Dan Wheetman. Choreography by Donald McKayle. Vocal direction DeBorah Sharpe-Taylor. Set by Robin Sanford Roberts. Costumes by Alex Jaeger. Lighting by Don Darnutzer. Sound by Jon Gottlieb and Phillip Allen. Production stage manager Alice Elliott Smith.