Broadway is back, not the struggling one of 2009 but the uniquely flavorful Broadway of the '30's in this cleverly reconceived version, by director Des McAnuff which takes Guys & Dolls from its original '50s to the actual time that Damon Runyon wrote his "Musical Fable of Broadway" and (as reinvented for stage by Abe Burrows and Jo Swerling) lovingly encapsulated such irresistible, idiosyncratic denizens like Liver Lips Louie, Augie the Ox, Brandy Bottle Bates, Society Max, Scranton Slim, Joey Biltmore, The Greek, Harry the Horse (you've got to hear Jim Walton's equine laugh), and caustic chorus girls, all flourishing in neon-lit life.
Since the score is and always has been the star of the show, it is most appropriate that the curtain lifts to reveal the entire, hot 18-piece orchestra onstage where they deserve to be fuelling Frank Loesser's immortal musical journey. If the show sounds a bit jazzier than the original, it is thanks to Music Director Ted Sperling who revealed, in a recent conversation, that the freshly conceived score evokes the era of Prohibition and the Jazz clubs, like the Cotton Club. He also extended the prologue "Runyonland" to cover all the vignettes, starting with Damon Runyon at his typewriter, a nice touch, tracing the trio of Nicely Nicely Johnson (Titus Burgess), Benny Southstreet (Steve Rosen) and Rusty Charlie (Spencer Moses) through the Times Square of 41st Street (and not the typical 42nd Street), to expose the underbelly of the area.
Dustin O'Neill 's expert rear screen projections offer a panoramic view of the city and the neighborhood and follow them cinematically till they land at their destination, an authentic newsstand (with papers screaming the headline Black Sunday, April 14, 1935) which leads right into their first number, the horse bettor's anthem, "Fugue for Tin Horns."
McAnuff keeps the pace fast and funny, and the show zooms through the plot with alacrity. We meet spinsterish Sarah Brown (Kate Jennings Grant) leading her Salvation Army troops through the street in "Follow the Fold," while, in contrast, Nathan Detroit (Oliver Platt) and the boys extol the virtues of "The Oldest Established (Permanent Floating crap Game in New York)" as they seek the next locale for their game.
Trying to raise money for the game, Nathan engages the visiting legendary gambler Sky Masterson (Craig Bierko) in a bet that he can't seduce the next woman he sees, who is the unapproachable Sarah. Taunting each, other they sing "I'll Know (when my love comes along)."
Next we race over to The Hot Box, the club where Adelaide and her girls perform "A Bushel and a Peck" (later they will moralize in "Take Back Your Mink" another example of Loesser's droll characterizations), and Lauren Graham delivers the famous homage to hypochondria, "Adelaide's Lament (a person can develop a cold)," probably the most literate (next to "Zip") of unrequited love songs i.e.: "The female remaining single, Just in the legal sense, Shows a neurotic tendency, see note: Chronic organic symptoms.. Toxic or hyper tense Involving the eye, the ear, the nose, and throat. In other words, just from worrying if the wedding is on or off, a person can develop a cough."
Nicely Nicely and Benny make fun of love-afflicted guys singing the title song. Somehow Sky tricks Sarah into going to Havana for "lunch" which treats us to a stunning change of locale, pace and alcohol-induced frivolity as Sarah succumbs in a unique and brilliantly descriptive love song: "If I Were A Bell (I'd be ringing)"
"Ask me how do I feel, ask me now that we're cozy and clinging. Well sir, all I can say, is if I were a bell I'd be ringing!" How perfect is that!
In an abrupt change of pace we glimpse the real Sky, a romantic loner (as is Ms. Brown) in the ballad "My Time of Day," and then the couple melt Into "I've Never Been In Love Before."
Things do not go well in Act II. Big Julie blows in from Chicago and cheats in the spectacular underground crap game enhanced by Sergio Trujillo's exciting recreation of "The Crap Shooter's Dance." Sky's plea "Luck Be A Lady" (silently sung by so many at the tables) wins him a bet that delivers the gamblers to the Salvation Army mission where, forced to pray, Nicely Nicely brings the house down in Stubby Kaye's immortal, "Sit Down You're Rockin' The Boat." The repercussions of this result in a double wedding in Coney Island of the two unlikely couples where the reformed Nathan leaves his hot dog stand (yes, its called Nathan's hotdogs, which inspired groans of delight from the audience) to marry, at last, Adelaide and the similarly reformed Sky, banging the Salvation Army drum, marryies Sarah.
As great as Frank Loesser's music is, from gospel to Latin to ballad to bawdy, the show is a great showcase for Loesser's genius with lyrics. The show is all of a piece, a look, a style never losing the storybook appeal of its origins. In collusion with the swirling projections, Robert Brill's cartoon-y sets reflect the Runyon's tongue-in-cheek attitude as do Paul Tazewell's spot-on costumes and Howard Binkley's bold and brassy marquees send light of such magnitude, they generated enough heat to warm the chilly theater.
Craig Bierko replaced the matinee idol smoothness of Professor Harold Hill in The Music Man for a darker more layered Sky. Kate Jennings Grant is mostly as tight as the curls in her wig and the buttons of her uniform. A little more nuance between the two leads would have softened them and made them more convincing.
Oliver Platt is an odd but ultimately endearing choice for Nathan Detroit, appropriately gruff and always in trouble, and the find of the season.
Lauren Graham runs away with the show as she goes from ditzy to adorable to actually profound, with a comic touch giving new life to lines that you already know are funny. In a part that has always seemed a bit whiny she enlists you on her side never mugging with a cuteness that is not cloying she lights up the stage whenever on it.
Mary Testa's is another surprise performance in the show as the formidable General who breaks into a who's-your-daddy abandon. Jim Ortleib as Arvide Aberbanathy croons the tender, "More I Cannot Wish You" and also accompanies himself on the piano.
Guys & Dolls opened on Broadway in 1950 where it ran for 1200 performances with Sam Levene, Vivian Blaine, Alan Alda, Alice Bigley, Stubby Kaye and dancer/choreographer Peter Gennaro. It was revived in 1992 winning four Tony Awards, including Best Revival, and ran for 1,143 performances till 1995. They just don't make 'em like that anymore So I'll take revivals until the right new thing comes along. And, according to the explosive, cheering crowd at the finale, this one is just fine!
