Photo by Jeff Lorch
Reviewed by Katie Buenneke
Pasadena Playhouse
Through June 23
Jelly’s Last Jam is a deep cut of a musical about a deep cut of a man. It premiered in 1991 at the Mark Taper Forum downtown, and transferred to Broadway shortly after.
But this bio-musical about Jelly Roll Morton, the self-proclaimed inventor of jazz is rarely produced professionally. While this might be because Morton’s legacy is overshadowed by those of his contemporaries, like Louie Armstrong, Duke Ellington, Count Basie, and others, the Pasadena Playhouse’s top-notch demonstrates a more likely reason.
The cast, orchestra, and technical elements at the Playhouse are quite strong. But as exceptional as so many moments of the show may be, the overall story disquieting, because of who Jelly Roll Morton was (at least, as he was portrayed in George C. Wolfe’s book).
The show begins and ends with his death. In these moments, Jelly (John Clarence Stewart) is confronted by the Chimney Man (Cress Williams), a manifestation of death, likely inspired by the Vodou figure, Baron Samedi. Jelly tells the audience his life story, from his childhood in a Creole family in New Orleans (Doran Butler, a phenomenally talented dancer, plays a young Jelly) to his early success transcribing the sounds that surrounded him into jazz music. After his grandmother (Karole Foreman) disowns him, Jelly goes on the road, first meeting his best friend Jack (Wilkie Ferguson III), and, later, the woman he loves, Anita (Jasmine Amy Rogers). Jelly tries to tell the story in a way that flatters himself, but the Chimney Man demands he tell the truth.
Jelly is a talented musician, but, as the musical tells it, he is equally skilled at self-sabotage and egotism. More than a story about Jelly Roll’s music, Jelly’s Last Jam is about how Morton’s colorism and sense of superiority drove everyone away. Jelly repeatedly makes it clear that he doesn’t see himself as a Black man; he is Creole, and resents being lumped in with Black people, whom he constantly describes using slurs. He is cruel to the two people who love him most, Anita and Jack, which is hard to watch, especially because there’s not really redemption for Jelly, who comes to terms with being perceived as Black by White people only in death.
Director Kent Gash has put together a sumptuous production at the Playhouse. The ensemble features exceedingly strong singers and dancers. The dance numbers, choreographed by Dell Howlett, are invigorating; they’re supported by an 11-piece orchestra with music direction by Darryl Archibald, who restored the show’s original orchestration, which was reduced for licensing. Rui Rita’s lighting and Samantha Jones’ costume design are lush, filling out Edward E. Haynes, Jr.’s spare set beautifully. Unfortunately, Danny Erdberg and Ursula Kwong Brown’s sound design, while adept at picking up the instruments and tap shoes, flattens the vocals in such a way that it’s not always easy to make out the words, both spoken and sung.
This is a unique production, where the sum of the parts may be greater than the show itself. There’s a lot to like about most of the elements of Jelly’s Last Jam, especially for anyone who enjoys hearing and seeing jazz performed at a high level, but Jelly Roll Morton’s story is a hard pill to swallow.
Pasadena Playhouse, 39 S. El Molino Ave., Pasadena; Tue.-Fri. at 8 p.m., Sat. at 2 and 8 p.m., Sun. at 2 p.m., through June 23. https://Pasadenaplayhouse.org. Running time: two hours and 20 minutes, including a 15-minute intermission.
