‘Phantom’s’ Gaines reveals indelible presence and charm

If the sheer voltage generated by Davis Gaines at the Carpenter Performing Arts Center in Long Beach on Wednesday evening could be harnessed, California would never again worry about an energy crisis. The Broadway veteran’s two-night-only engagement in the venue’s Club Carpenter Cabaret series offered a pyrotechnical display of blistering intensity.

Gaines, perhaps most familiar from more than 2,000 performances as the title character in “The Phantom of the Opera,” is an uncommonly gifted artist. Blessed with infinite natural presence and puckish charm, he scarcely need open his mouth to fascinate an assemblage.

Thankfully, he does open his mouth, and what pours forth defies superlatives. Gaines’ vocal equipment is the real royal thing, a titanium-plated organism combining operatic amplitude with the dynamic precision of a jazz instrumentalist and the interpretive resources of a classical tragedian. Sagely accompanied throughout by the marvelous Carol Anderson (responsible for many of the plush arrangements), Gaines’ program was as compelling as his patter was unforced, mapping each song with endearing spontaneity and distinctive intent.

Opening with a buoyant, Ellis Larkins-flavored take on “Oh, What a Beautiful Mornin’,” Gaines established a direct pipeline to the audience with material that never faltered. He followed the Rodgers & Hammer- stein standard with a visceral rendition of Rodgers & Hart’s “My Romance” that seemed yanked from his soul’s deep- est reaches. Similar simmering emotion attended Amanda McBroom’s “Dance” and Cole Porter’s “So in Love” from “Kiss Me, Kate,” with the latter graced by some astonishing chromatic modulations. His medley of “I’ll Never Fall in Love Again” and “By Myself” -- introduced as “the most depressing arrangement we could possibly do” -- was a miniature cantata of epic heartbreak.

Not that “Hamlet”-level histrionic force was the only weapon in Gaines’ arsenal. His specialty number consisting of every sappy love lyric ever written was convulsively funny. His reminiscences of Richard Burton’s “Camelot” revival led to an uproarious channeling of Robert Goulet doing “If Ever I Would Leave You” as “If Ever You Would Leave Me.” Still, it was Gaines’ sensitivity that pierced most deeply. Becoming beleaguered clerk Cornelius Hackl in “It Only Takes a Moment” from “Hello, Dolly!” his dulcet timbre was achingly true, and his reading of Thornton Wilder’s “Matchmaker” dialogue for the character immeasurably touching.

Appropriately, the piece de resistance was “Music of the Night” from “Phantom,” which Gaines performed as though for the first time, with death-defying phrasing and breathtaking half tones. He topped this unbeatable showstopper with his finale, a go-for-the-jugular “Old Man River” that brought the capacity crowd to its feet, after choking everyone up.

As an encore, Gaines snuggled into David Friedman’s beautiful plea for tolerance, “We Can Be Kind.” No sentiment could better encapsulate both this intoxicating troubadour and his phosphorescent ability to meld his hypnotized listeners through his meaningful music.