Hey, Look Me Over opened on Wednesday as the first show of the Encores! season. If the rest of the shows (which many have said are dubious choices) are this good than we should all buy our tickets now. The curtain of this show is special in itself. It features posters of past Encores shows and a huge 25. They will go on to also be the background once the curtain rises, but I’m getting ahead of myself. First, the hilarious Bob Martin, reprising his role of Man in Chair, comes out and introduces how he created the show. He tells how he sent letters to Jack Viertel imploring him to do certain shows, and eventually he responded with “Fine. You do it.” And so, to quote him again, “Let’s start with an overture, because everything is better with an overture”. I personally am inclined to disagree, but the Wildcat overture is so fun to listen to that it is not an issue. Next, the residents of Wildcat’s Centavo City come out in much the same way that the residents of Greenwillow do later in the show (Whose fault is this?), in a state of depression, but when a Fiddler-like rumor that oil can be found everywhere arises, people perk up considerably. According to Gerald Nachman’s book Showstoppers, opening numbers should set the tone for the rest of the show. Whoever heard this must have thought they were in for a dull evening. It is basically just a way to set up the plot, and is a by-the-book example of exposition. Next comes the delightful title song of the show. (That is Hey, Look Me Over) It is sung with much enthusiasm (and a surprising amount of props for Encores) by Britney Coleman and Carolee Carmello. Although Carmello’s outfit is so strikingly hideous that you almost want to look away, the rambunctious singing and staging are fun to see. Overall, though, it makes a dull opening to a spectacular show. Martin recites more jokes and facts, until the next show, All American, takes the stage. “Melt Us” is in my mind, one of the greatest songs ever written, even though Charles Strouse and Lee Adams sounded slightly monotone on the backer’s recording. The cast also excelled at performing it. Sarah Jane Shanks as Katrinka was especially good. I believe that this is one of the best Charles Strouse musicals. The surprisingly charming Reed Birney makes an entrance to big applause, as does everyone else in the show. The star of such shows as The Humans and 1984 wouldn’t be expected to sing, but neither was Jake Gyllenhaal. His ‘What a Country” sounds much like Ray Bolger’s, though. The two men auditioning for West Side Story was probably not in the original. It was basically a cliche, however the watch bit was clever. (his watch gets stolen by a man who is “selling” them) It is funny and charming, but not an especially good song. Next comes a book scene, and there should be more of these, since you can hear all the sings on cast recordings. Although I had dreamcast Carolee Carmello as Elizabeth Bullock in this show, Judy Kuhn really does add a certain nuance and world-weary sensibility that is necessary. In an unnecessary gag, they begin to sing the wonderful song “Our Children” but Martin cuts into the action by saying they should instead sing “Once Upon a Time”. For me it was just disappointing when they didn’t continue with “Our Children”, and it made a good portion of the preceding scene pointless. Birney exerts his full charm in “Once Upon a Time”, a choice I would not have made, as this goes against the previous two songs which were funny and joyful. But the starry night sky setting, though traditional, is convincingly used. Even though all the sets are detracted from by the endless Encores playbills that hang from the walls. But I should get back to All American. Despite all the aforementioned reasons that they shouldn’t have done the song, it is still pleasant to hear and is a good way to end this portion of the show. Next Martin again comes onstage, but is interrupted by Vanessa Williams coming out from the wings. She impolitely tells him to “leave the stage” but we wish we could hear Martin’s funny comments. Another glaring error is that we don’t even find out that these songs are from Jamaica until after they are performed. William excels on “Ain’t it the Truth’” because she is the perfect blend of dry, funny, and showy. Although I haven’t heard her in St. Louis Woman, I’d say she probably was good in that as well. These numbers are, however, made to seem pointless and abstract, and Williams has a distinct I’m-too-good-for-this air. But even so, I was thrilled by this first song, but the second song was a total letdown. Although “Push De Button” was backed by a chorus of hunks, it did not make up for the fact that it went on for much too long and was slightly tedious even to begin with. And sexual connotations such as those present in “I Can Cook, Too” were definitely not hidden. The only highlight of the number was the bit of acrobatic dancing there Williams was lifted high in the air. But what follows will definitely make up for it. That is Jerry Herman’s Milk and Honey. I have always objected to “Shalom”, as it is a bit draggy, but Marc Kudisch somehow manages to make it interesting. I’ll admit the characters are stereotypes, but the actors (Judy Kuhn and Marc Kudisch) more than make up for it. Although neither has worked in a while, this is one of the more plausible ideas for a revival (not counting last season’s Musicals in Mufti production). Then another scene in which Britney Coleman (as Kudisch’s daughter) and himself are trying to convince Kuhn to go on a ride. They are also introduced to the meddling Clara Weiss (essentially a Jewish Dolly Levi) who is clearly trying to arrange a match. (she, too, puts her hand in there) played well by the delightful Nancy Opel, although none can rival the York’s Alix Korey. Next comes the somewhat un-called for “independence Hora” which is essentially a simplified version of Hofesch Shechter’s “To Life” from the recent Fiddler. It is pretty much silent, except for a few shouts of “hey, kalima, hey!” at random intervals. But next comes another brilliant song, “Milk and Honey”. It is the slightly overzealous Tam Mutu and other villagers who sing about the pleasures of Israel, while Clyde Alves gives Kudisch a more pessimistic and down-to-earth view. Whether or not the honey is bitter or sweet, they can all agree that “this lovely land is mine” even if it carries a note of sarcasm. The next show (and finale of Act 1) is unquestionably the best one. The wonderful Douglas Sills sings the song “Movies Were Movies” from Mack and Mabel. It has a great silent movie routine, everything from murder to pies-in-faces. I wish directors could be today as careful about their filming as Sills (or rather, Sennett) is. Although he almost goes crazy when a kid from a sandwich shop delivers needed refreshments during a take, he does offer her a contract. About this show, Martin comments “the anal of you will notice that Jerry Herman is overrepresented” but you'd have to be pretty anal to care, since they are both so good.Next comes another song from the same show, “Look What Happened to Mabel”. Alexandra Socha is convincingly wide-eyed, but at the same time a bit cloying. It is a good song over all, if bit stereotypical (in the style of “Mame” and “Hello, Dolly”). On this medium note, we set off on intermission. When we return, we here an overture from a show that is (un)fortunately not otherwise represented, Subways are for Sleeping. The overture includes the standard “ Comes Once in a Lifetime” and other songs from that show. Then we move on to Frank Loesser’s Greenwillow, which is in itself startlingly overrepresented with 5 songs, only one of which is a standout. Despite a fight scene between Kudisch and Clifton Duncan (his son) which Joseph Stein would envy (thank you, Lesser Samuels) a Brigadoon-like plot (which Martin viciously says) and dull songs do not really make a case for this show. “A Day Borrowed From Heaven” is pleasant at first, but the repetition becomes slightly unbearable after a bit. The next song, “Gideon’s Charm”, is strangely not listed on IBDB as part of the original show, nor should it have been part of this one. It is just a weak solo for Clifton Duncan when a song is coming up. it is how he slowly destroys the plant that tells of a visitor’s arrival. This procedure consists of stomping and yelling. Then we move on to “The Music of Home” a classic production number that is overly sentimental (like the show) and again, unnecessary. Next coes the diamond in the rough, “Never Will I Marry”. Duncan sings it with such a big voice and so much emotion that you immediately have to love it. Martin also gets an amusing line out of it; “this song has a special resonance for me because I played it at my wedding.” Even though our interest in the show is now somewhat lagging, it picks up again because the next show is Noel Coward’s Sail Away. Martin makes a generalization about all Coward shows. It starts with ennui, then longing, after that ecstasy, and finally resignation. We start at the beginning with “Come to Me” in which (“Hello, Dolly”-style) the other crew members explain why they’re glad to have Bebe Neuwirth on board. She also sings a bit about herself, but her true feelings aren’t revealed until later. Next, for the longing section, Tam Mutu fights with his mother, Nancy Opel, about his love life, and after cruelly dismissing her, he sings “Sail Away”, a rather dull song. In fact we are LONGING to get past it. Martin claims that we don't have time to linger in ecstasy, so we move on to resignation, with the truly delightful “Why Do The Wrong People Travel?” a lament about the stupid people on her ship, with several examples. She has not lost her talent, and this is one of the best numbers of the show (imagine “I’m Breaking Down” meets “Adelaide's Lament”). This sets us up for a big climax, which we partly get with George M!, songs from a revue used in a revue. At the performance I saw, we got a huge surprise, with the sudden entrance of Joel Grey, in person. However, I have heard that he did not appear in every performance. Clyde Alves taps (the only big dance number of the show) to the classic “Give My Regards to Broadway”, which is fun to hear, if a bit of an anti-climax. Then the cast bows (again, if I was the director, I would have something to say about the bowing order). The only sad thing about this show is that it eliminates 8 possibilities, any of which would have been fun to see. The cast then launches into Irving Berlin’s "Give Me Your Tired, Your Poor”. I hope all of you read this in time to get tickets for tonight's performance. At one point in the show, Bob Martin says, “I think we can all agree that I'm proud of me for doing this”. And if you get to see it, I know you will be too.
