Sacred SISTER ACT, Profane PRISCILLA

This week, we are taking a trip to the West End, analyzing the cast recordings of the two biggest new musical hits on the boards, both based on successful and very music-centric films, SISTER ACT and PRISCILLA: QUEEN OF THE DESERT, and both showcasing songs in a seriously 70s soul/funk/disco style. We will go from the soaring sonorous heights of Heaven to the dungeon-like depths of musical Hell with these two entries...

One Terrific Sister Act

It is rare to find a score more exemplary and accomplished than the work afforded to SISTER ACT by Alan Menken and Glenn Slater. What seemed a near-impossible feat in besting, or even equaling, the legendary arranging and interpolations of Motown standards with sacred hymns in the songs crafted by the film-music genius Marc Shaiman for the original film version of SISTER ACT and SISTER ACT 2: BACK IN THE HABIT, surprises us from the very first moments in its eclipse of the near-impossible-to-beat standard set by Shaiman. Menken and Slater have undoubtedly created one of the strongest and most memorable new scores of the new century and enough praise cannot be lavished upon them for this entertaining, enlightening and engaging enterprise. It is truly Heaven-on-earth and there is not a false note, though there are a few missed ones due to the less-than-stellar male performers. But with these stupendous sisters on display, the brothers are bound to be earthbound in their efforts, though one hopes they find better fits for the roles on Broadway when the show arrives on our shores in 2011, as Whoopi Goldberg, a lead producer and the original Deloris in the film version, confirmed on the Joy Behar Show late last week. But enough purgatorial praise and loving lip-service has been paid, so let's get right down to it. And - boy, oh, boy - do these sisters, and brothers (Menken and Slater, especially), know how to get down!

The album begins with a plaintive plea for guidance, and perseverance, from the Man upstairs by the sterling Sheila Hancock as the Reverend Mother and before we know it we are taking those stairs all the way down to a skuzzy and sleazy nightclub where our titular heroine is knocking ‘em dead - but not yet saving their souls. She delivers the goods, in spades, but quite soon, as we shall see, she is also delivering souls. "Take Me To Heaven" is one of the best opening numbers I've ever heard, a punchy and powerful paean to the disco sounds of the era that ally and abet the truly awesome score, sometimes when least expected. Everything about this song works, and works fabulously well. The lyrics in this number expertly set up its ingenious reprise at the end of the act, as well as firmly establish the juxtaposition between Deloris now and the woman she will soon become in the habit. The habit, (read: cocaine), alluded to in the next number, the positively breathtaking "Fabulous, Baby," also sets up the two directly, and direly, divergent worlds of the show: scurrilous showbiz gangsters and soaring, shining sisters of the The Holy Order of the Little Sisters of Our Mother of Perpetual Faith. Don't let the "Little" in their title fool you, as there is nothing "little" about them - not their personalities, nor their talent, nor their penchant for putting the words of the Father into the hearts and minds of the many lost flocks of sons and daughters particularly prevalent in the crime-ridden neighborhoods of the Chicago church they serve. "Fabulous, Baby" also firmly establishes our lead character as a truly godly force of nature, both the character and the charismatic, compelling creature that perfectly portrays her: Patina Miller. To curb a phrase from Slater's lyrics, she is simply too divine for words. This woman is a star, spelled D-I-V-A, and shines ever-so-brightly, particularly in this glorious "I Want" number, which surely stands in the same sound league as the greatest such numbers in all of musical theatre like "I Am The Greatest Star" in FUNNY GIRL or "Good Morning, Baltimore" in Shaiman and Scott Wittman's HAIRSPRAY. These two numbers are everything great musical scores are made of, and the hits just keep on coming. What proved at one point to be a particularly problematic part of the Pasedena Playhouse production now works remarkably well as an evocation of the old-school values of the Reverand Mother in the sentimental and searing "Here Within These Walls", handled with very apparent aplomb by Miss Hancock. Under the newly created guise of Sister Mary Clarence, Deloris is introduced to each of the other nuns of the parish in "How I Got The Calling" and each is instantly likeable and idiosyncratic enough to linger in the memory long after the surprisingly short establishing song has ceased. Next, we are brought back to the grisly goings-on of the backroom abode of Shank, Sweatie Eddie and the other goons out for blood, sacred and profane, in The Four Tops-esque "When I Find My Baby". It is to Slater and Menken's credit that they create two very distinct musical styles in which these very different characters express themselves, equal in their wit and ingenuity, with a slight upper-hand always going to the sisters, as it should be, despite the nearly garrulous gamblers. It seems no matter how effective the material for the men may be we will always want to go back to Church, and the ladies therein, if only because the inhabitants are more interesting and engaging, most readily obvious in the almost unnecessary and overlong "I Could Be That Guy" for Sweaty Eddie. "Do The Sacred Mass" is where the score truly begins picking up steam as the witticisms wow us and the sumptuous songs of the sisters ignite our spirits with excitement and passion that is quite contagious. The first act ends with a one-two punch of the utmost excellence, the arresting and awesome "Raise Your Voice" and the beyond brilliant reprise of "Take Me To Heaven". This is beyond the beyond, one of the best and most inventive Act One closers of all time. Absolutely angelic.

Act Two begins on the same high that Act One ended on, an unbelievable accomplishment given the powerful poise of the lyrics and the unbeatable beats of the disco-influenced numbers that have come before, with "Sunday Morning Fever". Catchy and contagious only begin to describe it. The men are then given their most effective and engaging material with "Lady In The Long Black Dress", a Marvin Gaye-like parody that rivals Cole Porter in its lyrical brilliance. Slater mines the religious and rock clichés for everything they are worth and never fails to flabbergast us with the fabulosity of his witty and winning turns-of-phrase. While "Bless Our Show" brings to mind "Be Our Guest" from Menken's BEAUTY AND THE BEAST, it is hilarious and hummable, if a bit too cheeky and cute. The reprise of "Here Within These Walls" is short and sweet. Speaking of sweet, I suppose it is necessary with this property to paint the protagonists either slightly saccharine, in the case of the sisters, or too sour and dour, in the case of the mobsters, to set up the central drama of the show and its inevitable conclusion: which life will Deloris choose, or can she merge the two somehow? In other words, is show-business always sacrilegious? We will soon find out. As in the best musicals, the middle of the second act has a showcase number for a secondary character, this time the curious and confused Sister Mary Robert with the show's strongest ballad, "The Life I Never Led". The reprise of the song has a more satisfactory ending, but Katie Rowley Jones makes a strong case for anything she blesses us with singing given her sumptuous sonorousness. "Fabulous, Baby (reprise)" as the lead-in for the eleven o' clock number, the title song, is another example of a shockingly effective use of a melody introduced earlier in a completely different context and Patina Miller is so, well, "fierce and fabulous" in everything she does that what could have almost been a misstep of a musical moment soars to the heights and tugs at our heartstrings. That being said, a stronger number for this immensely important incident in the drama would certainly be even better than what we have here. "Spread The Love Around" is a perfect ending to a pretty perfect score and the bouncy brilliance of the marriage of music and lyrics mined so magnificently in this masterpiece of a score makes us truly feel the joy of transcendence, even the non-believers among us. This score is almost too awesome to be believed and may make the angels themselves jealous of its alluring attributes.

"Take Me To Heaven?" I am there! You will be, too, the second you give yourself over to the power of this score. Can I get an "Amen"? All together now: Amen!

SCORE: 9.5/10

If This Is Venus, Take Me To Mars
In direct opposition to the brilliance of the aforementioned West End score is the Melbourne cast recording of the jukebox hack-job of the stage version of the campy drag queen film, PRISCILLA: QUEEN OF THE DESERT. This is one of the most unnecessary, uninteresting and unlikable cast recordings I have ever heard, careening from vulgar to foolish to wrong-headed with equal (lack of) dexterity. I will preface this review by sharing with you that many tell me the true strength, and by far the greatest asset, of this show on stage is the elaborate production of both the original Australian production and its West End antecedent. That being out of the way, let's cut to the chase: I really dislike it. There is no wit or even apparent reason for this to even exist so I will keep this very short and succinct, focusing mainly on the relative few merits to be found here on the cast recording if at all possible. I think jukebox musicals can work, and in many cases do, and there are many fine attributes to the best of the genre, particularly JERSEY BOYS and moments in MAMMA MIA, but no such accomplishments are evident anywhere here. This is not a show for everyone - particularly me - and it is the very definition of anti-pulchritude as far as I‘m concerned.

One thing the show does provide is excellent opportunities for the performers, so I hope the Broadway cast can shine brighter than the performers do here.

The Overture is the best track on the album, and that only because it is so short, and that statement alone most eloquently expresses my views on this entire enterprise. Everything goes on too long and goes too far over-the-top. Although, the orchestra sounds consistently canned and fake. "Downtown" is a mishmash and a mess. "I've Never Been to Me" is far worse than even the original version, itself a dumb song on the level of "She Bangs" by Desmond Child by way of Ricky Martin, or, if you prefer, William Hung. Speaking of that American Idol horror-show, I would say that this is the musical theatre equivalent of him and his album but that would imply this even had the can't-look-away car-crash allure that that had. Again, this show is all about the glitz and glamour, I am told, and the cast album is meant more as a souvenir of the stage show, I'd imagine. I suppose "Don't Leave Me This Way" is one of the scant highlights, thanks in large part to the occasionally interesting performance by Tony Sheldon, standing slightly above the rest of the cast who, to be kind, are certainly never at there best on this tuneless, tired, turgid recording. "Venus" is a pale imitation of its predecessor. A show about drag queens, this has far more than its fair share of diva homages, most generally quite lacking, and the less said about the Tina Turner ("What's Love Got To Do With It?"), Cyndi Lauper ("Girls Just Wanna Have Fun"), Dionne Warwick ("I Say A Little Prayer"), Joni Mitchell ("Both Sides Now") and Donna Summer ("I Will Survive") covers, the better. These tracks are all tepid and sound trite, and Act Two doesn't fare much better.

Act Two does have a slightly more interesting song stack, but I shall eschew a complete evisceration of this recording and tell you that "A Fine Romance" and its reprise prove that even a classic standard can be nearly destroyed at the hands of these mostly atrocious, pandering performers and the overall vapid nature that infects almost every single element here, but I am hopeful we will get more worthwhile performances on Broadway. I suppose I could say "Always On My Mind" is a momentary lapse of the lugubrious, lethal lassitude this recording wretches forth, but it is not nearly enough to even bring the whole thing up more than a notch or two. "Shake Your Groove Thing" is the only song that temporarily touches upon the fun frivolity of the screen version, and that is mostly because it immediately brings to mind exactly that: the film version, and its soundtrack, superior in every way if only because it is not the crass karaoke which this seems to be, at least on record. Rent the film or see the show onstage if you really dig this sort of thing, but do not buy this cast album unless you have a penchant for punishment. This is truly a desert with no apparent oasis in sight, aural or otherwise. Truly torturous, but, again, the lavish spectacle of the show on stage most certainly must cover many of the myriad flaws of the show as it stands on record. Also, with the right performers I am sure this material could be carried off with much more assurance and aplomb. The show on stage could very well be a boisterous blast, but the cast album is not.

If SISTER ACT is Heaven, PRISCILLA is close to Hell.

SCORE: 2/10