Burning Brass

by Dan Collins

What the automobile did to the horse-and-buggy, Elvis and the Beatles did to big bands.

Warren Leight's play, "SIDE MAN," chronicles the story of this paradigm shift in American music from the perspective of the Glimmer family-Clifford (Sean Mullin), Terry (Adele Russell) and Gene (Dave Gamble) - and their friends, Patsy (Anne O'Reilly), Al (Michael Leicht), Ziggy (Roy Hammond) and Jonesy (Carl Stevens).

Gene is the "side man" in question, or better, questions, as Gene has a few to answer. Will he ever fulfill his potential--as a musician, a husband, a father? How will he survive the end of the jazz band era? In a life where his son's first unemployment check is a celebrated rite of passage, will Gene ever accept responsibility? How does a man manage to be so "clean," so respected, yet so oblivious to the sufferings of those around him?

A "side man," the theater program explains, is a jazz term referring to "a player of great ability who can blend into any orchestra, as well as perform solos." Gene is that, and more, another Dizzy Gillespie if his wife, Terry, has anything to say about it. He's also a "side man" in that he lives to one side of life. All that matters is music; he and his jazz cohorts have an epiphany while listening to a "lost" recording of the late jazz trumpeter Clifford Brown, in tune with every riff and resonance of the piece...but Gene is deaf and blind to his wife's physical and mental breakdown, even as she implodes and explodes right in front of him.

The play features numerous time shifts, moving seamlessly between the present (1985) and the past (1953, the 60s and 70s) as Clifford provides witty commentary (in a scene where Gene asserts that Las Vegas is "a desert" and TV will never make the move to L.A., Clifford calls him "the anti-psychic").

Personally, I'm not a big fan of plays where one of the actors serves as a narrator, speaking directly to the audience to provide exposition. I'm of the "don't tell me, show me" philosophy...and trying to compensate with a laugh by having characters comment, "Hey, who ya talkin' to?" doesn't cut it. That being said, I found the narration effective, as it added an endearing quality to the play, like someone paging through an old photo album, fondly recalling favorite moments in time.

But not every memory is pleasant. The aptly named "Jonesie," who lost an eye to the pursuit of his own drug addiction, runs afoul of the police, is badly beaten and sent to prison. Actor Carl Stevens, who reminds me of a young, rail-thin David Paymer, brings a gentle warmth and spirit to his role, as in fact do all of the supporting characters for they are Clifford's extended family and the love between them is strong--and in Patsy's case, literal, as she takes turns marrying nearly every man in the play.

Director Sherrionne Brown and the set construction and design team (Jenn Mikulski, Warren Smith, and Kevin Heckathorn) do an admirable job in turning a simple stage into the Glimmers' upper West Side apartment (adorned with so many hand-me-downs, Ziggy quips, 'The Salvation Army wants to declare peace'), Charlie's Melody Lounge, the 92^nd Street unemployment office, the Hotel Nevada basement , the band room of the Paramount, and the little flat where Gene and Terry first shared love.

There were a few miscues; a little work needs to be done in with phasing music in and out-too abrupt sometimes, and too much scratchy feedback. The actors occasionally stumbled on their lines and one actor took a tumble when a cot's mattress proved less than supportive, but all were handled with aplomb. Like the musician who hits a bad note, you keep on playing, as the show must--and did--go on.

At play's end, Gene trumpets a solo, raised high behind a lit screen as Clifford provides his final bit of commentary:  "He senses everything when he's playing, but nothing when he doesn't," Clifford concludes about his father, who, still oblivious, plays on, sweetly "burning brass."

SIDEMAN continues its run at the Fells Point Corner Theatre, 251 South Ann Street, Fridays and Saturdays at 8 p.m. and 2 p.m. on Sundays now through April 11^th. Tickets are $15-$17 with $10 "cheap seats"  available for Thursday, April 2^nd and 9^th performances at 8 p.m.  For more information, visit www.fpct.org or call 410-276-7837.

 

 

               

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