BWW Reviews: KT SULLIVAN and JEFF HARNAR Are Beguiling and Theatrical In Their Second Sondheim Songbook Show at the Laurie Beechman

I could tell you that KT Sullivan and Jeff Harnar have done it again, but the truth is that they've done it even better. Their first foray into the Stephen Sondheim songbook last summer, Our Time, consisted of she sings, he sings--each watching the other perform then offering duets. This iteration titled Another Hundred People: Sullivan and Harnar Sing Sondheim-Act II (both at the Laurie Beechman Theatre), beautifully directed by Sondra Lee, considers both characters theatrically, not just vocally, but visually.

Sullivan and Harnar pass and circle, but only selectively relate. Moments of bonhomie are jauntily displayed with back-to-front music hall perambulating. Numbers partially sung from the audience are well chosen. (Wait till you see mischievous Harnar drape himself against successive available walls.) Even the way each performer sits relates to lyrics.

The duo covers 40 Sondheim songs, the majority of which are grouped together, describing emotional themes, and are often bridged with alliteration or lyric similarity. For example, Sullivan's "The Girls of Summer" (from the 1956 show of the same name), during which her eyes close while head and shoulders luxuriate in the heat, in tandem with Harnar's "Sand" (from the unproduced 1992 show Singing Out Loud) conjures a beach both real and metaphoric: Love is just sssand/Slippery but clinging/Love is just sssand/Stir it and it flies . . .

Or the seemingly organic sequence of Sullivan's heart-in-her-throat "No One Has Ever Loved Me" (Passion), equal parts suspicion, wonder, and gratitude; her tremulous "With So Little To Be Sure Of" (Anyone Can Whistle) and "So Many People" (Saturday Night): And if they tell us/It's a thing we'll outgrow--she shakes her head and smiles--They're jealous as they can be/That with so many people/ In the world/You love me . . .

Or Harnar's "Now You Know" (Merrily We Roll Along) performed sitting backwards on a chair as if dispensing wisdom, his eyebrows forming a tent, brimming with sincerity: I mean, big surprise/People love you and tell you lies/Bricks can fall out of clear blue skies . . . which segues into the tender, protective "Not While I'm Around" (Sweeney Todd), a promise made credible by the vocalist's hushed ardor.

As Sullivan sings "Like It Was" and a touching "Good Thing Going" (We had a good thing going/Going, gone . . .), Harnar is across the stage back to us. He turns and with "Not A Day Goes By" responds not to her but, out of his own isolation, to the situation: Not a day goes by/Not a single day/But you're somewhere a part of my life/And it looks like you'll stay . . . The vocalist moves seamlessly from heartsick choke to full musical ardor. (All three songs from the 1981 musical Merrily We Roll Along.)

As in their Sondheim Act I, sexual roles are blatantly switched. For most of the evening, both performers sing to "him." Harnar's "Live Alone and Like It" (from the 1990 film Dick Tracy) with ragtime overtones and throw-away charm and his highly perplexed "You Could Drive a Person Crazy" (Side By Side) work beautifully with this approach. I had trouble, however, making the gender leap to Sullivan's Follies originated "Waiting For the Girls Upstairs," "Beautiful Girls," and "Buddy's Blues." (Gleeful W.C. Fields inflection and crisp, wry, two-character depictions in the latter were deft.)

Except that it's rather too much of a good thing, there were few unsuccessful numbers in Another Hundred People: Harnar's "The Ballad of Sweeney Todd" rides on such a slick, jazz accompaniment, it sounds like the declawed television theme to a generic detective series. Sullivan's "No More" (Into the Woods) is so stressed her facial expressions are exaggerated. The emphatic mood bleeds into the angriest interpretation of "There Won't Be Trumpets" (from Anyone Can Whistle) I've ever heard.

Between the last songs and finale, our cast briefly leaves the stage. Musical Director/pianist, genre-bending Jon Weber (right in photo, above) plays and sings such a subdued version of "Broadway Baby" (Follies) it could be a soft shoe. Uninvited, most of the audience quietly sings along creating a real New York moment. Sullivan and Harnar then solo from the audience--she kewpie doll, he deadpan--for all the world like musical theater characters.

Both artists are effectively low key, channeling feelings into persuasive, controlled vocals, ever aware of original context too often jettisoned by those less seasoned. By this, I don't mean, casual, but rather using emotional muscle memory to disarm, instead of volume or acting out. The duo's amiable complicity grows with every collaboration. Harmony finds familiar footing. Warmth pervades.

The show ends with "How Do I Know" from a 1945 musical called By George that 15 year-old Stephen Sondheim wrote while at George School and "showed to Oscar (Hammerstein) the fateful afternoon I began to take myself seriously." Nicely punctuated.

KT Sullivan and Jeff Harnar return to the Laurie Beechman Theatre with Another Hundred People on July 22, July 29, and October 12, all at 7 pm. For reservations, call" 212-352-3101

Photos by Maryann Lopinto

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