(photo: courtesy of Musical Theatre West)
Reviewed by Joel Beers
Musical Theatre West
Through Nov. 3
RECOMMENDED
Ain’t Misbehavin’, the iconic 1978 musical revue featuring songs co-written or performed by the prolific and groundbreaking pianist and composer Fats Waller, has always been more than the sum of its parts. While its 30 songs evoke the versatility and exuberance of Waller’s compositions and piano style — and, by extension, the ebullience of a Harlem nightclub in the 1930s — the choice and arrangement of the material underscore themes of struggle and resilience that transcend the music.
There is joy in Ain’t Misbehavin’ no doubt, but it is often a defiant joy that highlights the reality that although the Harlem Renaissance was a time of immense cultural flourishing it didn’t occur in a vacuum; segregation still ruled much of America; in fact many of the clubs, cabarets, and speakeasies where Waller performed excluded Black patrons.
Of course, it’s entirely possible to sit through this Musical Theatre West production and do what people have been doing since the show premiered at the Manhattan Theatre Club’s cabaret in February, 1978: enjoy the vibrant, energetic music and lyrics — only a few of which Waller actually wrote—that are as much celebration as they are homage to Waller and other pioneering musicians and other artists of the era. The score is playful and ribald, sarcastic and poignant, steamy and saucy, but always life-affirming, embracing all of it, from the highs of casting off social norms by cutting loose in the club at night, to the lows of being on the short end of a one-sided love affair.
(Leave it to those who, for whatever reason, can’t fully commit to just being in the moment. Let them consider things such as how the judgments and assumptions that the narrator of the titular song seeks to silence. That said narrator insists he isn’t misbehaving might complicate a love affair, but it can turn deadly when racial profiling enters the mix.)
This Paul David Bryant-directed show does what any successful production should do: it avoids unnecessarily complicating a show anchored by music and crewed by a five-person cast not charged with collectively telling one overarching story but telling 30 smaller stories, each of which has its own central character: the music. In this case, the music comes from a live seven-member ensemble, complete a bass and drum rhythm section and a horn section featuring trombone, trumpet, saxophone, and clarinet. At the helm, and standing in for Waller himself, is pianist and conductor William Foster McDaniel, who delivers Waller’s trademark stride piano styling on a gorgeous Steinway.
It takes a little while for the vocal and musical components to blend — or at least to get to the back row of the Carpenter Performing Arts Center. All five performers—Eric B. Anthony, Chante Carmel, Marty Austin Lamar, Amber Liekhus, and Fredericka Meek—are well-voiced and imbue their singing with the character needed to tell these smaller stories, but they don’t all project equally, making it difficult to hear some voices. However, the sound smoothed out by the time one of Waller’s few novelty songs, “Cash for Your Trash,” a wartime jingle, lit up the stage near the end of Act 1.
Where the musical engine sometimes took time to catch in the first act, the second act comes out roaring with “Spreadin’ Rhythm Around,” which may not be as well-known as ‘The Joint is Jumpin”’or the title song, but is just as anthemic, delivering laughter and energy that starts things off with gusto. Each performer then gets a moment to shine, with the lithe Anthony, who has more moves than oil on a hot skillet, starting things out with the weirdest song in the mix, the pro-reefer tune “The Viper’s Drag.” Lamar joins him for two audience-participation call-and-response tunes, neither of which would probably make the final record in these overly sensitive times, as each pokes great fun at people who are body-challenged: “Your Feet’s Too Big” and “Fat and Greasy.” Carmel, Liekhus, and Meek nail the poignancy of “Mean to Me,” along with another song that might not pass muster in 2024: “Give Them What They Like,” which doesn’t exactly empower women — except where it might count the most.
Up to this point, the show has been in constant motion, but now everything stops. The five actors stand, shoulders nearly touching but still seeming to feel isolated from each other. And then the haunting melody of “Black and Blue” begins. Unlike the double entendre and sly winks at work in so many of the songs, there’s no doubt what this song is about: it addresses the weight of racial discrimination, and the loneliness of what Ralph Ellison would later characterize as being an Invisible Man.
The song ends in exquisite five-part harmony, and then the show begins to move again. Five more songs and two reprises follow, essential for releasing some of the tension built up from the beautiful but emotionally harrowing “Black and Blue.” It’s a wonder anyone could stay in their seats after plumbing those depths. Whether we’ve felt the weight of the world pressing down upon us or we empathize with those who have, what better time to engage in the universal symbol of resistance, resilience, and community?
Carpenter Performing Arts Center, 6200 E. Atherton Street, Long Beach; Fri.-Sat., 8 pm; Sun., 1 pm; thru Nov. 3. https://musical.org. Running time: Two hours with one 15-minute intermission.
