Oscar E Moore

Behind the diminutive, jovial and blunt exterior of iconic sex therapist Dr. Ruth Westheimer is a wealth of emotional information that is brought to the surface in Debra Jo Rupp’s earthy, funny and touching portrait of the woman who beat all odds to become one of radio and television’s most popular celebrities with her frank and honest and often witty remarks regarding sex with an unmistakable accent that shot her to fame.

In BECOMING DR. RUTH, beautifully crafted by Mark St. Germain and directed with a keen insight into character and pace by Julianne Boyd that is now in performance at the Westside Theatre (Upstairs) Debra Jo Rupp (from That 70s Show) captures the essence and the heart of that little woman who could – her courage, her intellect and her perseverance.

Preparing to move out of her Washington Heights apartment (nicely detailed by Brian Prather) that she had shared with her third husband Fred for thirty six years (recently deceased) – and two children – packing up boxes of books and family photos and a collection of turtles she interrupts her phone conversation by telling the person on the other end of the line that she has “guests” – gesturing to the audience – and immediately we are drawn into her story.  A story told with great wit and wisdom.  Projections by Daniel Brodie) giving a theatrical flair to this feisty woman’s tale of survival and success.

When Hitler arrived in her homeland and her parents were carted off, little Ruth was sent to Switzerland where they were accepting Jewish children.  It is a harrowing tale told on the brink of tears but tears are withheld because German Jews don’t cry.  They smile as her Grandmother taught her to do and make the best out of every situation and to take advantage of any and all opportunities that may arise, which she did in abundance – all the way to becoming Dr. Ruth.

Loving to sing and dance (she had a terrible singing voice) she educated herself by watching Shirley Temple movies and reading True Confessions.  And receiving scholarships.

Discovering that she was a romantic and attracted to handsome men she also learned about sex early on which ultimately led her to writing books on sex, inventing a sexual board game, and giving advice on a radio show that became a huge hit where she dispensed information on the size of ones penis, masturbation, and oral sex.  She shied away from S&M and bestiality (as she wasn’t a vet).

Dr. Ruth also collected doll houses.  They represented family for her.  A family that was torn apart.  With her neat and ordered houses she could control that which she never was able to do.  It’s a very telling and moving moment conveyed honestly by the consummate performer Debra Jo Rupp.

I won’t spoil any more of the delicious tidbits conveyed in this fine production but will leave them for you to discover when you see it first hand.

A Barrington Stage Company production.  Photos:  Carol Rosegg

www.BecomingDoctorRuth.com

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MURDER FOR TWO, a way over the top whodunit featuring an appealing straight man of sorts Brett Ryback as a cop (Marcus) investigating the murder of famous New England novelist Mr. Arthur Whitney and Jeff Blumenkrantz of mobile face and nimble limbs as all the endless eccentric suspects – male and female – young and old – prissy and gruff – including a twelve member boys’ choir has seemingly led a charmed life.

After a sold out run at Second Stage Theatre Uptown this past summer at the McGinn-Cazale Theatre where it garnered glowing reviews MURDER FOR TWO written by Joe Kinosian (Book & Music) and Kellen Blair (Book & Lyrics) has reopened at New World Stages 5 where both actors are first seen vying for dominance over who is going to play the grand piano center stage.

Your delight with the material will depend on your willingness to just go with the flow and not care if it doesn’t really make any sense at all and how much you will admire the virtuosic tickling of the ivories by both men.

Arthur Whitney has been murdered.  Has he been shot?  Or stabbed?  Or poisoned?  It’s a moot point as his unseen body is dead on the floor with his wife caring more about who stole the ice cream?

All of the suspects can be found in the various novels that Mr. Whitney has written.  Also unseen strewn across the floor.  The cop on the scene (Brett Ryback/Marcus) wants to solve the crime so that he can be promoted to Detective by “Chief” who checks in every so often on a cell phone (the cell phone ringing is a running gag that annoys Mr. Blumenkrantz to distraction and soon becomes dreary).

Marcus is also looking for a friend as his ex-partner and he had been mixing business with hanky-panky and she left leaving him forlorn.  Enter the niece of Whitney, Steph, who wants to take her place.  And help solve the mystery.

There is also a psychiatrist, a bickering old couple, a ballerina and three kids from the aforementioned choir.  As good as Blumenkrantz is at changing his voice to accommodate these suspects it becomes difficult to follow with the result being that you don’t care who did it in this material that is spread wafer thin and directed at break neck speed by Scott Schwartz.

Props on the back wall that look like clues from the board game CLUE remain unused on the wall of the drab back stage set designed by Beowulf Boritt.

What I ultimately appreciated was the dedicated hard work of the actors and the skills displayed by their four hand finale – that appears to have been influenced?  adapted?  ripped off?  from an old Victor Borge bit that still resonates.

Extended Through March 16th 2014  Photos:  Joan Marcus

www.MurderForTwoMusical.com

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Elegant and sassy.  Exuberant, stylish, optimistic and filled to capacity with tunes that will set your feet a tapping and your heart a racing, The Cotton Club is alive and well and stomping and splitting and sliding and singing – making the Brooks Atkinson Theatre the new Jazz Mecca to head for to be thoroughly entertained by AFTER MIDNIHT – a new musical revue expertly directed and choreographed by Warren Carlyle.  It’s ninety minutes of pure joy emceed by Dule Hill with short poetic narrative by Langston Hughes and music direction by Wynton Marsalis.

The country may have been deep in the depression but at The Cotton Club in Harlem where only whites could see some of the best black performers around everything was bubbly, glamorous, happy and filled with hope – even when singing the blues.

AFTER MIDNIGHT is a spectacular production any way you look at it.  A celebration of The Cotton Club’s music and performers.  That lone, leaning lamp post is deceiving but once it is lit the stage comes to vivid, colorful life with a 17 piece on stage band (The Jazz at Lincoln Center All Stars) playing Harold Arlen, Duke Ellington, Dorothy Fields, Ethel Waters and Cab Calloway to the hilt on a unit set by John Lee Beatty that along with lighting designer Howell Binkley changes color to adapt to the phenomenal costumes by Isabel Toledo making her Broadway debut.  And what a debut it is.

The last time a fashion designer did costumes for a musical (and I may be wrong) but I think it was Donald Brooks for NO STRINGS starring Diahann Carroll and Richard Kiley and they were lovely.  Ms. Toledo’s costumes are original, whimsical and to die for.

Warren Carlyle has outdone himself with choreography that is imaginative, contemporary and breathtaking.  Without as much as a word he can convey a story through dance.  Tap, boogie, athletic, funny, strenuous, jive and street smart are all covered with dancers that can execute the moves beautifully.  “Peckin” is destined to become a classic with “specialty” numbers aplenty.

Making a star entrance as “Special guest Star” is Fantasia Barrino and she does not disappoint.  She is wondrous.  Looking fabulous (tats and all) and singing her heart out with “I Can’t Give You Anything But Love”  “Stormy Weather” and “On The Sunny Side of the Street” she simmers with every note.

Wonderful comic relief is supplied by Adriane Lenox with two witty numbers “Women Be Wise” and “Go Back Where You Stayed Last Night”.

Featured dancers/singers Karine Plantadit, Julius “iGlide” Chisolm, Virgil “Lil’ O” Gadson and Jared Grimes and Dormeshia Sumbry-Edwards – oh they are all terrifically talented.  GO GO GO.  Even a funeral is cause for celebration!

There are songs that I had never heard and want to hear again.  There are “verses” sung.  Verses that are a thing of the past but will now be introduced to a new generation of theatergoers to be loved and appreciated.  What an outstanding production!  Conceived by Jack Viertel.  Thank you.

www.AfterMidnightBroadway.com Photos:  Matthew Murphy

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It’s probably a bit late to secure a reasonably priced seat for the hottest show in town (running ONLY through January 5^th) but if you can you must see this exquisite and stylishly cold revival of Harold Pinter’s BETRAYAL (pauses intact) that seethes with inner hostilities, selfishness, dishonesty and deceptions staring Daniel Craig, Rachel Weisz and Rafe Spall and directed by Mike Nichols who still has that Midas touch.

Written in 1978, Pinter used a page from his life – a seven year clandestine affair that went unnoticed but certainly not unfelt to base this play on.  Casting real life husband and wife in the roles of Robert (Daniel Craig) and Emma (Rachel Weisz) adds another voyeuristic layer to this absorbing drama that is presented in reverse chronological order in a swift ninety minutes.

With sharp, staccato dialogue we meet Gallery owner Emma and her ex-lover Jerry (an amazing Rafe Spall) a literary agent who is her publisher husband’s best and oldest buddy reuniting in a pub (1977).

Emma is now trysting with a new writer represented by Jerry and has finally told her husband the truth about Jerry as Robert is now shacking up with another woman and has known for quite awhile about the affair.

It’s all over.  But it isn’t as we go back in time in nine scenes to 1968 in Robert and Emma’s bedroom where a pot smoking Emma and inebriated Jerry find themselves alone and together until Robert appears.

It’s a fascinating albeit creepy journey into the lives of these three self absorbed characters.  Who knew what and when?  How will they deal with the odd situation?   Jerry is married to an unseen Judith and they have two children.  Robert and Emma also have two children.  Emma seems to be hopelessly in love with Jerry.  All three betray and are betrayed.  Tit for tat.

Rachel Weisz is stunningly beautiful and one can sense the animal attraction between Jerry and the wife of his closest friend Robert who as portrayed by Daniel Craig who is about to erupt at any given moment – baiting and brooding.  But it is the character of Jerry that is most distasteful.  Well, they are all distasteful as they connive behind closed doors.

One wonders why these people married in the first place.  They seem to want both stability and freedom at all costs never thinking about whom they are hurting.

Harold Pinter’s structure is tight and at the time BETRAYAL was first produced truly original and innovative.  It still works under the astute direction of Mr. Nichols who allows us to digest the emotion of each scene by having the various set pieces slowly slide in and flown down from the rafters in a fluid manner courtesy of scenic designer  Ian MacNeil, and lighting designer Brian MacDevitt.

The projections of Venice by Finn Ross are spectacular along with the original music of James Murphy and costumes by Ann Roth.

Stephen DeRosa makes the most of his turn as an Italian waiter as he serves Robert and Jerry over a mostly liquid lunch.

This production of BETRAYAL deserves a much longer run.  It is fantastic.  The acting is real, honest and deeply emotional and you cannot help but be amazed at how you are drawn into their lives as they try to remember and make sense of what they have wrought.

At The Ethel Barrymore Theatre.

www.BetrayalBroadway.com Photos:  Brigitte Lacombe

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The Gaesling family has seen better days – although you wouldn’t know it as they are having a champagne breakfast in their sumptuous lodge outside of Syracuse New York (another masterful design by John Lee Beatty) toasting the opening of hunting season as the World is at War in 1917 – and we have seen better plays produced by the Manhattan Theatre Club and Manhattan Class Company.

In this joint effort which is a mediocre knockoff of scenes from Chekhov written by Sharr White with wonderful in flight projections by Rocco DiSanti and helmed by Daniel Sullivan we meet The Gaesling family – a family at odds with one another and trying to make the best of it under the dire circumstances that slowly unfold.  It might take a while to connect all the dots and once you do you will be in Act II of this melancholy period drama.

Starring Mary-Louise Parker, as the beautiful but fragile, delusional and not so merry widow Elizabeth Gaesling who doesn’t look old enough to have these two grown sons – the favorite, self absorbed, charming and rakish Princeton attendee Duncan (an excellent Evan Jonigkeit) on his way to save the day overseas and his younger less favored practical brother Arnold (Brian Cross) making an impressive Broadway debut, Duncan discovers to his horror that they are broke and can only afford one new servant – a beautiful refugee from the Ukraine Viktorya Gryaznoy (Jessica Love) who fortunately understands and speaks fluent English – having been raised in wealthy surroundings before losing it all too.

Welcome to Broadway Mr. Brian Cross.  Someone saw your potential and you have run with it, giving a very nuanced, controlled, charming and emotional performance as Arnold that brightens up this somewhat dreary play.

And that same someone either forgot to tell Ms. Parker that she is not on television but in the theatre where projection and not a close up is most important or she has decided that Elizabeth is in such a state of mourning with her gorgeous widow’s weeds designed by Jane Greenwood that she is sometimes unintelligible.

Also on hand is Elizabeth’s devout sister Clarissa (Victoria Clark) who is married to Max Hohmann (Danny Burstein) a German/American Doctor with a wry sense of humor who is now on the outs and losing his patients due to the German backlash from the war.  Both actors are sublime.

The man of the hour, the rakish Theodore Gaesling (Christopher Innvar) who has caused his family to loose everything and who is the love of Elizabeth’s life makes a brief and notable appearance.  As do flocks of flying snow geese.

Limited run at the Samuel J. Friedman Theatre.

www.thesnowgeesebroadway.com  Photos:  Joan Marcus

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It was risky producing Rupert Holmes’ adaptation of John Grisham’s 1989 best selling novel A TIME TO KILL without some heavy duty stars in roles made famous on the screen (1996) by Matthew McConaughey, Samuel L. Jackson, Kevin Spacey, Donald Sutherland and Sandra Bullock.

But not as risky as it was for the young and ambitious attorney Jake Brigance (a less than charismatic but adequate Sebastian Arcelus) to take on the case of Carl Lee Hailey (a powerful John Douglas Thompson) in 1980 Mississippi who admittedly shot and killed two men outside of the Courthouse.  Two drugged out red neck monsters who viciously raped his innocent ten year old daughter, breaking her jaw with the intention of hanging her.

With a racial divide as wide as the Mississippi Jake takes on the case and has to deal with a formidable and sleazy D.A. Rufus R. Buckley (an excellent Patrick Page) who is aided by his lush of a mentor Lucien Wilbanks (Tom Skerritt) and an ambitious, astute and attractive young intern, Ellen Roark (a too contemporary Ashley Williams).

Carl Lee has faith.  Enough faith in Jake that he can get him off despite his admitting to the crime.  He is convinced that what he did was the right thing to do and will not defer even though his wife Gwen (Tonya Pinkins) has her doubts and the NAACP offers to help him for free.

What’s missing is the undeniable lyrical prose of Mr. Grisham.  The story is there.  And a damn good story it is, with some insights into the inequalities of the judicial system in Mississippi circa 1980 and all its biases.

But this is neither a novel nor a movie.  And director Ethan McSweeny who did a brilliant job with THE BEST MAN fails to get his uneven ensemble of actors to convey the story with a theatrical force that it should have.  It comes across stilted at times.

Especially in Act I where we plod along through the crime, the arraignment, the bail hearing, an amusing fee negotiation and the decision to plead insanity.  Even with the aid of some great projections (Jeff Sugg) and a rotating set by James Noone that is the true star of the production it feels somewhat prolonged and unsatisfying.

It is not until Act II where things finally take off.  As the set revolves we become the jury and we do not miss a single word as they present the case to us directly.  The trial’s the thing as prosecutor and defense both have their own expert psychiatrists Dr. Bass (John Procaccino) for the defense and Dr. Wilbert Rodeheaver (Lee Sellars) for the prosecution on the stand that leads to some unexpected surprises presided over by Judge Noose (Fred Dalton Thompson).

A TIME TO KILL tries its best to garner excitement but is only semi-successful with its straightforward telling of the story leaving us with the question – If you were the father of a ten year old girl who was viciously raped what would you do?

At the Golden Theatre.  www.atimetokillonbroadway.com

Photos:  Carol Rosegg

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Fans of Norbert Leo Butz can rejoice.  Mr. Butz is starring in the mediocre new musical BIG FISH with a mediocre score by Andrew Lippa and a mixed up book by John August who adapted his Columbia Pictures screenplay based on a novel by Daniel Wallace.  It seems that a lot has been lost along the way.  Fans of innovative musical theatre may want to go into mourning.

But Mr. Butz certainly works his tail off and exudes energy and charm playing Edward Bloom, a dad dying of cancer in Alabama who tells corny jokes and tall stories while keeping a major secret from his New York reporter son Will played by a fine Bobby Steggert who is about to be married to Josephine (Krystal Joy Brown).  Also involved in flashback is Young Will (an adorable Zachary Unger).

The always lovely Kate Baldwin looking like a ravishing Grace Kelly with red hair and who sings like a dream truly loves Edward.  The over heavy Act I with production numbers – dream sequences of his tall tales – finally takes hold with the haunting “Time Stops” beautifully staged by Susan Stroman who I am afraid is beginning to become rather stale and repetitious.  How many times do we have to see cast members emerging from a car or a TV set for yet another production number?  Nothing new here.

If splashy production numbers are what you crave BIG FISH has more than enough.  The simple and moving story about a son trying to find the truth, the reality behind his traveling salesman father’s life that has been filled with fantastical stories where he is the hero but holding back the one story that really matters where he is an actual hero doesn’t come together with a Witch, a Giant, a Mermaid, a USO number (where the large onstage band is revealed) and a Western giddy-yap trial where son confronts father.

There is a lot of “stuff” on stage but the production numbers seem “empty” with a true lack of imagination.   What should be magical seems overproduced as Edward, in Walter Mitty style, goes from one tale to the next with us caring little about them.

Even the massive and moving projections (Benjamin Pearcy for 59 Productions) seem at times to upstage the actors and the usually excellent William Ivey Long’s costumes are uninspired – except for the Girl in the Water (Sarrah Strimel).

Andrew Lippa’s score is a collection of styles and for the most part serviceable with some toe tapping infectious music and some moving ballads – “Stranger” for Steggert and “I Don’t Need a Roof” for Kate Balwin.

There is also a Circus, a secret about a second house and its mortgage, another woman, lots of daffodils and a death bed scene.  All fantasy (Act I) and then dead serious (Act II) and never the twain doth meet.

At The Neil Simon Theatre.

www.BigFishTheMusical.com  Photos:  Paul Kolnick

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Director Lindsay Steven Posner has done a superb job in transplanting The Old Vic Production of Terence Rattigan’s THE WINSLOW BOY (not seen in New York since 1947 and based on an actual incident) to the American Airlines Theatre with a remarkable new ensemble cast headed by Roger Rees as banker Arthur Winslow.

A determined, strict man with a short fuse whose fourteen-year-old son Ronnie (Spencer Davis Milford) has been accused of robbery and forgery (of a five shilling postal order) at the Royal Naval College – a man who refuses to believe that his favorite and trustworthy son could have done such a deed – a man who will “at all costs” (quite literally) – “let right be done” all the while suffering from a debilitating case of arthritis and a drain on his funds.  Will he be successful or will he be forced to give up his idealistic cause?

It’s a riveting journey in pre war England (1912-14) where you will get caught up in the trials and tribulations of the Winslow household as they all face problems resulting from the accusation of this youngster – beautifully portrayed by Mr. Milford.

His older and less favored brother Dickie (Zachary Booth) prefers his gramophone and dancing to studying despite his dad footing the bill at Oxford.  Their suffragette sister Catherine (a radiant Charlotte Parry) represents the newly emerging liberated woman – who smokes and speaks her political mind even to her father and continues to wear fashionable hats.  She is engaged to John Watherstone (Chandler Williams) whose father doesn’t approve of the erupting scandal and who also provides John with an allowance.  Will they wed?

Arthur’s wife Grace (Mary Elizabeth Mastrantonio) fusses about trying to keep peace and abreast of the goings on as the very expensive Sir Robert Morton (the excellent cold and calculating Alessandro Nivola) is asked to take on the case.  Sir Robert is a busy man – a man of a few words until he interrogates Ronnie is a spellbinding Act I finale.

His assistant Desmond Curry (a noteworthy and delightful Michael Cumpsty) is in love with Catherine and Sir Robert and Catherine to complicate matters have a Benedict and Beatrice-like relationship (Much Ado About Nothing – which some subtitle the Winslow scandal).

A reporter, Miss Barnes (Meredith Forlenza) and her blasé photographer Fred (Stephen Pilkington) interview Arthur Winslow and she winds up more interested in the fabric of the curtains.  A nice touch!

And last but certainly not least is the maid Violet (Henny Russell) – a maid of twenty four years who might have to be fired as the income of the Winslow family dwindles and the cost of keeping Sir Robert on the case eats up what’s left.  Ms. Russell positively shines as we discover the outcome.

THE WINSLOW BOY is terrific theatre.  Well constructed with sharp and insightful dialogue and humor.  The almost three hours fly by and you will be intrigued as to the outcome.  Great costumes and set design by Peter McKintosh add to the period drama immensely.

It’s impossible not to think of all those falsely accused of a crime and how long and hard and expensive it is to clear one’s name – to prove one’s innocence – to let right be done.

Highly recommended.

www.roundabouttheatre.org  Photos:  Joan Marcus

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Janis Joplin was lonely.  Lonely in the extreme.   As she keeps reminding us in this celebratory concert of her life A NIGHT WITH JANIS JOPLIN on stage at The Lyceum Theatre that has been done up like a reincarnation of the Fillmore East with neon Darth Vader like florescent tube lights and psychedelic effects (Justin Townsend) throughout.  Except when she was in front of an audience.

She appears to have had a normal and happy childhood growing up in Texas with her parents and two siblings.  Mom was a lover of original Broadway cast albums and her Dad a fan of the classics who introduced Janis early on to the “library” where she became an avid reader.  They read and sang.  And perhaps collected small “kitschy” lamps that populate the two tiered stage where a terrific eight piece band backs up our star – with a brass section that rivals Joplin’s own pipes.  And then she hit San Francisco.

Janis was just a “white chick who loved to sing the blues” and she certainly was one of a kind.  She was also an artist as in painting.  And even though the name Mary Bridget Davies doesn’t have quite the same ring as Janis Joplin she sure does a phenomenal job in bringing back to vivid life the Queen of Rock and Roll who died prematurely at the age of 27 from an overdose of heroin combined with some Southern Comfort.

Facts that are whitewashed here with just a few delicate slugs from a whiskey bottle and nary a needle in sight.  In this version of Ms. Joplin’s life we are privy to some quiet reflections between her raspy, howling, wailing renditions of songs made famous by the women who influenced her own unique style by a quartet of fabulous singers.

These beautiful and iconic phantoms from the past: Bessie Smith (Taprena Michelle Augustine) Nina Simone (De’Adre Aziza) Etta James (Nikki Kimbrough) and Allison Blackwell as the Queen of Soul Aretha Franklin are each accomplished singers that deliver entertainment with a capitol “E”. 

The first act finale where Aretha joins Janis with “Spirit in the Dark” backed up by the Joplinaires is sensational.  And that might be enough for some.

But not die hard fans that want to relive the days of long hair, bell bottoms and rock and roll with an emphasis on the “blues” sung with the deepest conviction by Mary Bridget Davies with her incredible wild soaring voice capturing the spirit of Joplin completely as she thrashes and whips her mop of hair into a frenzy along with the audience.  She’s a marvel of endurance who in her more subdued moments oddly reminded me of Rachael Ray – of all people.

You will gladly leap to your feet and join in the “party” mood that these performers stir up, shaking the rafters of The Lyceum.

But you will learn little about the sad and lonely white chick who loved to sing the blues and died so young.  Written and directed by Randy Johnson.

Despite the fact that I was never a Janis Joplin devotee Mary Bridget Davies completely won me over.

www.aNightWithJanisJoplin.com  Photos:  Joan Marcus

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Fortunately, Dee Dee Bridgewater is the star of this show, making her mark as the legendary jazz vocalist Billie Holiday, caressing each word with tones that create the exact image of the troubled, drug addicted and lonely performer – the famous Lady Day. Her singing is spectacular. Close your eyes.  Is it Lady Day or is it Dee Dee Bridgewater? 

Bringing to mind those 1970’s commercials – you may wonder – Is it live or is it Memorex?  Ms. Bridgewater’s uncanny renditions of the more than twenty five songs is the only reason to see this show and judging from her many fans in the audience it could have a healthy run at The Little Shubert Theatre on 42 Street.  If only…

If only there was a writer and director that could tell this extremely compelling and dramatic story in a better way.  Stephen Stahl has created a hodgepodge of elements that never gel.  Divided into two acts, the frame work of the show falls flat with its onstage combo of piano (Bill Jolly), bass (James Cammack), drums (Jerome Jennings)and saxophone (Neil Johnson) interacting somewhat with their star.  All excellent, by the way.

Act I is the rehearsal for the concert that evening in London (1954) where Lady Day will attempt a comeback after being busted in Philadelphia and losing her Cabaret Card thus making it impossible for her to perform in her intimate nightclubs. 

And so she has traversed the Continent successfully and is now ready to hit London big time in a rather too large theater.   Her stage manager Robert (David Ayers) tries to keep her straight and away from the booze and drugs while encouraging her and giving her some hope as we learn through flashbacks the story of her troubled life as she speaks to God, her unseen parents and simulates her childhood rape.

There is also a hunky assistant stage manager hanging around and hanging lights (Rafael Poueriet) in a thankless role.

Act II is the actual concert where some of this material is repeated which got me to wondering that perhaps we only need to see Act II.  Lady Day is decked out in all her white finery including a flashy fur stole and glittering gown (Patricia A. Hibbert) and her trademark gardenias.  And she is drunk as a skunk.  But she quickly recovers and sings her heart and soul out.  She really is terrific.

But she berates her audience and we wonder why they would stick around.  Just to see her fall flat on her face?  Morbid curiosity?  The real reason I gather is to hear her sing.  For when she sings it is indeed heavenly.  Unfortunately the rest of the show is more blah than bliss.

www.LadyDayTheMusical.com  Photos:  Carol Rosegg

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