Review: Sting Fans Come To Life at Joe's Pub in Rosemary Loar's Imaginative 'STING*chronicity'

When one describes a meal or a performance as "interesting," it's usually a euphemism for awful, or at least deeply flawed. But Rosemary Loar's STING*chronicity, the musical theater and cabaret performer's second show devoted to Sting's songbook, is genuinely interesting---and ballsy. Featuring 13 characters who share little beyond a profound love for Sting (and mutual attendance at the Police reunion tour at Madison Square Garden in 2007), the show presents Loar's highly stylized and unusual interpretations of songs both from the Police era and Sting's forays into jazz as a solo artist.

Loar is immensely likable and at her best when singing jazz (in some moments she approaches the consummate Sarah Partridge), but transposing a song from one musical genre to another is always risky, particularly mega-hits by a rock star. Imagine a country (or worse, Muzak) version of AC/DC's Back in Black; obviously this should never come to pass.

There is also a question of gender; pronouns must be changed in "Every Little Thing He Does Is Magic," a song with an unmistakably male point of view written about a young female student when Sting (born Gordon Sumner) was still teaching English. A song about a cougar this is not. Loar's jazzy interpretations are less of a stretch with a song like "Moon Over Bourbon Street" or "Brand New Day," two of the show's strongest numbers, than "Roxanne" (which works) and "Every Breath You Take" (which doesn't).

Beyond questions of genre, the Broadway actor with dozens of regional credits to her name, is hardly young. Evoking Anne Bancroft in The Turning Point with her ultra-thin body but considerably warmer, sunnier personality than the aging prima ballerina in the 1977 film, Loar plays some unhinged and unsympathetic characters. This, too, is ballsy in a cabaret setting and proof that Loar is a serious actor willing to play characters one might switch subway cars to avoid.

An actor's job is not to judge but to find humanity and truth in a character. Loar succeeds on this score, but that doesn't mean it's enjoyable to watch Staci, a rambling, insolvent Southerner entrusted with the healthcare of a man in a "persistent vegetative state" as she recounts her unenviable circumstances. Frankly, she's a basket case, though not without cause. The song paired with this woman's story, "If You Love Someone, Set Them Free" makes thematic sense given her "pull the plug or not" conundrum, but it's depressing to witness so disordered a psyche.

I was reminded, during this and surrounding numbers, of the 1981 film Body Heat. Taken in by the smoldering femme fatale (Kathleen Turner), William Hurt's character seeks arson advice from an ex-con and former client brilliantly played by Mickey Rourke. Rourke repeats the advice Hurt gave him years ago. There are 50 ways to mess up a crime; if you can think of 25, you're a genius. "And you ain't no genius," Rourke, now in the position of counselor, tells his former counsel.

Loar enlists the help of a number of writers to invent the stories she matches to individual songs. But unlike a typical cabaret in which the anecdote involves the performer, the set-up here is fictional; this adds another degree of difficulty. Even when a song works musically, the number can fail because the story either doesn't work at all (Staci) or doesn't match the song as well as one would hope, as with Claire, a inked-up, hypersexual drug addict. Loar sounds breathy in "Shadows in the Rain" (written by Diane Amsterdam) but her scat is respectable.

Given how much has to go right (and alternately, how much can go wrong), it's impressive that more numbers succeed than fail. This has much to do with the exquisite playing of musical director Frank Ponzio (who also has a good voice) and the excellent work on bass by Tom Hubbard. A sexy "Message in a Bottle" begins the show, followed by a cute if cartoonish vignette about a young German fan named Bettina ("Every Little Thing He Does is Magic"). The effusive European is a nice set-up for the amusing "Mia" and "Mia's Mother," written by real-life mother and daughter Mia Katz and Cheryl Stern about two generations of affluent Manhattan women skilled at manipulating men.

The show shifts emotional gears with "Ghost Story," a heart-rending portrait of a daughter's grief at the death of an abusive father. "I can't believe they put you in a box on the mantle," says Danielle in a line Loar infuses with all the ambivalence one would expect in such a situation.

The evening's one original song, "All I Could Do Was Sigh," followed Danielle's sorrowful tale. In "Rosemary," Loar recounts her one encounter with Sting when hired to sing backup on The Emperor's New Groove. Well-written by Matt Hoverman, the story anticipates the show's penultimate number, "Synchronicity" about a meeting between Loar's beloved late husband (who wrote many of the show's vignettes) and Sting himself.

Unfortunately, the song cannot but suffer by comparison to the powerfully sung "Ghost Story," and would have been better placed after a weaker number. You don't follow your strongest song (up to that point) your weakest material, and the show feels adrift during "Shadows In The Rain" and "If You Love Someone Set Them Free."

STING*chronicity rebounds with "Brand New Day," and the momentum continues with a terrific "Roxanne." "Every Breath You Take," introduced by Frances, Sting's first wife (and best friend of current wife Trudy Styler) doesn't impress, but "Moon Over Bourbon Street" makes up for it, as does a gorgeous "Never Coming Home," about an abused wife named Angela. Ending where she began, Loar reprises "Sending Out An S.O.S" in what is an uneven but ultimately worthwhile production with many beautiful moments.

To post a comment, you must register and login.