A secretary may not be a toy, but if you're Des McAnuff, a Broadway show is. McAnuff and designer John Arnone go all-out to turn this revival of How To Succeed into something out of FAO Schwartz -- all movement, eye-popping colors, sound and silliness. That it works, mmm.. 90% of the time, is a credit first and foremost to Abe Burrows, Jack Weinstock & Willie Gilbert's miraculous book, one which, even played perfectly straight, could only offend the most humorless feminists. And though Frank Loesser gave his best melodies to Guys And Dolls, he saved dozens of awesomely constructed lyrics for Succeed ("A pad is to write in / and not spend the night in... It happened to Charlie McCoy / boy, we fired him like a shot / the day the fella forgot, a secretary is not / a toy")
A second viewing of the new production shows most of the supporting cast pushing harder for laughs and attention. This helps Megan Mullally, whose Rosemary is finally able to step out of the shadow of the distracting video animation behind her solo numbers. But it hurts Lillias White, who still brings down the house with her vocal astronomics on "Brotherhood Of Man" but is otherwise a shrilly one-note Ms. Jones.
More welcome a second time around are Ronn Carroll and Gerri Vichi, both playing it the company way, Victoria Clark's stalwart Smitty and Luba Mason's stacked but stupid Hedy La Rue. Jeff Blumenkrantz remains the unsung star of Succeed, his gangly, gonzo Bud Frump crossing Tommy Tune and Pee Wee Herman into a character we look forward to seeing more than J. Pierrepont Finch.
Which brings us to the new Ponty, John Stamos. Give him another two months and he'll probably find his own key to the character, for he sings well and gracefully manages the "Grand Old Ivy" duet's comic set-up. At this juncture, though, he feels like an understudy walking in, but not close to filling, Matthew Broderick's shoes. Stamos' "I Believe In You" comes off like a capable "Star Search" turn, rather than an exultant personal pep-talk. If this revival now lacks a center, the trimmings are still state-of-the-art, with John Arnone's elevators, tilted desks and video decor, and Wayne Cilento's snappily choreographed "Coffee Break" still giddy marvels to behold.
