Review: Hey, Big Spender...Spend a Little Time with Eight O'Clock Theatre's Splendid SWEET CHARITY

It's no accident that Charity Valentine's middle name is Hope. Hope is her philosophy, her personality, her mantra. Life (and the men in her life) keep knocking her down, but she rises like some tattooed Phoenix, only to be knocked down by life (or men) again. She's the poster child of resiliency. In SWEET CHARITY, dance hall "hostess" Charity is full of spunk, zest, an enthusiasm for life. But, like Scarlett O'Hara in a very different work, it's the hope for a better tomorrow that keeps her motor running. She's not a hopeless romantic, she's a hopeful one. And that will never change; it's her nature.

Based on the Academy Award winning Federico Fellini film, Le Notti di Cabiria (one of my all-time favorites), SWEET CHARITY focuses on various vignettes in the life of Charity and her dance hall compadres who line up for men in the seedy Fandango Ballroom. She's down on her luck, being dumped in a river by a lover who robs her, and then her fortune changes. She spends an awkward evening with an international film star before finding the man of her dreams, the man who will rescue her from this sad, empty world...or will he? The show ends abruptly, on a strange note, but we know, no matter what, that our beloved Charity will never lose that optimism, that hope.

In 1966, Broadway was coming of age, with shows becoming edgier, darker, more biting. SWEET CHARITY emerged early in that key year; it lost the Tony Award to Man of La Mancha (as did Mame). And months later, that fall, Broadway would be forever altered by the earthshaking appearance of Cabaret. SWEET CHARITY would eventually close in 1967, but the show's spirit, its infectious music, its uplifting words, live on in the hearts of theatre lovers all these 56 years later.

Cy Coleman composed the music for this, turning "Big Spender" into one of the most recognizable showtunes in history; a few years later, it seems natural that he would be the one to create the instrumental "Playboy's Theme" for the infamous Playboy After Dark TV show. Dorothy Fields, in her early sixties, wrote the lyrics that showcase so much optimism in the face of despair, which seemed to be her stock-in-trade; thirty years earlier in the Great Depression, she scribed such pick-me-up songs as "On the Sunny Side of the Street" and, the ultimate song of survival, "Pick Yourself Up." Neil Simon wrote the script; with SWEET CHARITY, he would have four shows running simultaneously on Broadway (the other three: The Odd Couple, Barefoot in the Park, and The Star-Spangled Girl). Lastly, the whole enterprise was guided by the great director/choreographer Bob Fosse, who with his muse Gwen Verdon, created one of his most iconic works.

And now Eight O'Clock Theatre has mounted a splendid production that recreates many of Fosse's original dance numbers. Director/Choreographer James Grenelle, one of the best artists in our area, isn't so full of himself that he decides to try to out-Fosse Fosse (a losing proposition from anyone); he celebrates Fosse and those signature dances while still putting his own personality into it.

At center stage is Amy Fee as Charity, one of the great women's roles, up there with Mama Rose and Evita. Ms. Fee has the personality, the talent, the whole shebang for this part. And she plays it with so much gusto, so much heart, that we root for her the whole time. With her hair Valentine red, she resembles Shirley MacLaine with a touch of Nicole Kidman as Lucille Ball. She's so charismatic, magnetic onstage, and she has to utilize everything for the part-acting skills, dancing talent and vocals. She's a ball of energy, as if she chugged down a quart of Red Bull before each scene.

Ms. Fee even gets to do one of the best literal spit takes I have ever seen.

I question whether I should mention this, but when something extraordinary happens, attention must be paid. Ms. Fee suffered from laryngitis all week and did not know if she would be able to speak, let alone sing, in the Friday performance. But something exquisite happened. Through her heart, soul, and obvious vocal rest, she performed the part as schedule and was marvelously alive in the role. Anyone who did not know she had laryngitis would not be able to tell the difference. She's that professional. I mentioned the malady to an audience member after the show, who said, "Then that's one of the most amazing performances I've ever seen. I never would have known." Seeing what Ms. Fee did--overcoming a performer's ultimate nightmare of losing her voice, but proving that the show must go on, laryngitis or not--is one of the most incredible things I've witnessed in the many years I've been reviewing.

The cast is filled with numerous CTHoFs--Community Theatre Hall of Famers. Domenic Biseti as Oscar, Charity's love interest, gets to show off his physical comedic skills, his body at times writhing in a crazed Jim Carrey-like turn. It's one of the most hilariously neurotic performances you'll ever see; yet there's a person with a heart there, a person who can help Charity and be helped by her presence even if he doesn't know it.

Stephen Fee makes a solid Vittorio, the film actor who has a memorable night with Charity. Fee is always strong, although this part can be rather thankless. The scene in Vittorio's room goes on and on, which is a problem with the script not the production; we've been seeing short, poppy vignettes and songs, and then we're suddenly plopped in a lengthy bedroom and closet farce that never seems to end. (It's not Kentucky Cycle long, but it sometimes feels like it.) Even Charity's strong "If My Friends Could See Me Now" can't quite save it, and neither can "Too Many Tomorrows," sung by Vittorio, one of the most unnecessary songs in musical theatre history (it challenges "Don't Go" from the 1987 version of Cabaret that is usually, thankfully cut). That said, Mr. Fee sings the hell out it, his usual terrific work, even if the song in question doesn't really move the show or the character's arch forward.

Ben Taylor is such a likable presence as the cigar-chomping Herman, and his "I Love to Cry at Weddings" is one of the show's highpoints. Lauren Dykes gets to display some serious vocal chops as Helene, and Gloria Rice makes for a memorable Ursula.

David Gallagher as Daddy from the Rhythm of Life Church is a much-welcomed addition to our local theatre scene. He gets to sing one of my two favorite songs from the show, "The Rhythm of Life," and he owns every moment of it. It's a classic number, a Grenelle special with the cray-cray choreography (complete with psychedelic liquidy squiggles projected behind the way-out dancers). In it, circles of hippies move about the stage in what would probably be a Mayor Daly/Richard Nixon/J. Edgar Hoover nightmare. "Rhythm of Life" is a song that will get a hold of your brain and never let go. (Gloria Estefan was right..."The Rhythm" is gonna get you.) I have been in meetings, serious business meetings, with that song stuck in my head; someone may be talking, but all I'm hearing is..."And the rhythm of life is a powerful beat/Puts a tingle in your fingers and a tingle in your feet/Rhythm in your bedroom, rhythm in the street/Yes, the rhythm of life is a powerful beat..." (Reading that, I'm sure the song is now adhered to your brain, too, if you know it; you're welcome.) The cast in the number is like a lost tribe roadshow of Hair (which, of course, came out a year or two after SWEET CHARITY), and Gallagher's Daddy is the charismatic leader of this forced feel-good cult who, in a few years, could become the Manson Family.

And then there's Chrissy Dobrowski Bormann as Nickie, Charity's best bud at the Fandango (played in the movie by Chita Rivera). When Ms. Bormann opened her mouth to sing, I sat up, leaned forward, and took in that incredible voice. Her acting is out of this world, and her "There's Gotta Be Something Better," a trio with Charity and Helene, gave me chills. The song itself is my other favorite SWEET CHARITY number, one of the great "I Want" songs, a big-dream anthem, sort of a volcanic "I Dreamed a Dream" but lots more fun to watch. And the Nickie/Helene duet, "Baby, Dream Your Dream," is just gorgeously rendered. Ms. Bormann nails every moment in her performance; there could be a ton of people on the stage, but your eye immediately goes to her. She's the best in the cast for my money. Chita would be proud.

The ensemble and dance hall hostesses are tops, including Kiara Dorothea, Sarah Dunn, Michael Hill, Daniel McKay, Erin Nelson, David O'Brien, Stephanie Porto, Bianca Rotondo, Chelsie Smith, katrina Young and Sarah Roehm. Each of them are distinct characters, not boring B.O.S. (Bodies on Stage). "Big Spender," the show's big number featuring the dance hall hostesses, gets an A+ treatment here. And they really get to shine in the cooler than cool "Rich Man's Frug," which is like a dive into Fosse Land and becomes one of the production's several standout moments.

Thankfully the band is onstage the whole time, and they are a tight group under the music direction of Juan Rodriguez: Brooke Stuart on percussion; Joe Bonelli and Chris Howard on trumpets; Colleen Chrien on trombone; Tony Fuoco, Diana Belcher, and Ric Cavanaugh on reeds; Eve Goldstein on guitar; and Dan Kalosky on bass. Listen for a section of "The Girl from Ipanema" played by them during the show.

Tom Hansen's set is a delicious eyeful, with backscreen projections and phrases drifting in and out like some kind of Fellini-esque dream. My only qualm is the dangling ferris wheel, which looks more like a front porch swing than something you'd find at Coney Island. Dalton Hamilton's A-1 lighting once again helps tell the story, beautifully underscoring each moment, with colors swimming to life as if we're experiencing some 50-year-old acid flashback.

With director/choreographer Grenelle at the helm, and Ms. Fee's Charity in the driver's seat, we are in good hands for the long journey.

Still, there is a dated quality to SWEET CHARITY, as seen in a Norman Mailer joke that landed with a thud. Watching it in today's world is a lot like listening to Herman's Hermits greatest hits, or viewing repeats of "Rowan & Martin's Laugh-In." There may be a slight disconnect. But its storyline is universal, cutting across generations and pop culture memories, and much of it still seems so fresh and fun, ballsy and bouncy. And yes, no matter how hard I try to forget it, "The Rhythm of Life" is still stuck in my head, still pulsating its powerful beat.

EOT's SWEET CHARITY runs through March 20th at the Central Park Performing Arts Center in Largo. The show is rightfully dedicated to Miss Chita Rivera, and she is scheduled to be making an appearance there on March 13.

Photo Credit: James Cass.

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