James Cagney never said, "Mmm, you dirty rat." He quit Warner Brothers because he was tired of playing Hollywood tough guys. While he could be scrappy when he had to be, James Cagney was actually a softie with a spine of steel.
It's all here in Cagney, a sketchy song-and-dance bio-musical currently making its the New York premier at the the York Theater. Librettist Peter Colley does not present a deep character study, but Cagney wins as an entertaining mix of toe-tapping with rat-tat-tat staccato speech of one of the most successful actors in film.
Cagney was a stocky pug discovered on the New York stage by studio head, Jack Warner. "I saw that folks needed a tough-guy image to help get 'em through the depression."
The key that drives this breezy show is Robert Creighton, a red-haired dynamo that pops with Cagney-isms with the combative signature stance, the trademark pugnacious delivery, and even the memorable George M. Cohan dance steps. Note that Creighton is not only the star, but he and Christopher McGovern are responsible for writing the original songs that add up to 75 percent of the show's music with solid harmonies and counter melodies. The rest are familiar tunes from “Yankee Doodle Dandy,” the movie that earned Cagney an Academy Award in 1942.
Cagney opens with a catchy Hollywood salute, "Black and White," delivered with brash showmanship by Jack Warner (Bruce Sabath) and the excellent company. Shoot forward to 1978 and the Screen Actors Guild, where Cagney is about to receive a Lifetime Achievement Award. As Warner prepares to introduce him, the two chat about old days. The show flashes back to Cagney's early days on New York's lower East Side, where he developed his street fighting and learned to defend the little guy. Like the Cohan song, "Harrigan," Cagney was proud of his Irish blood.
Under director Bill Castellino's hand, act one moves briskly and in a linear style, from Cagney's hoofing days in vaudeville before moving on to Tinsel Town. His film career is born when Cagney shoves a grapefruit in the face of Mae Clark in the film, “Public Enemy.” His career is threatened toward the end of the 1930's, when the House Un-American Activities Committee subpoenas him for alleged Communist sympathies, a charge later dismissed. Act two proves less cohesive but a musical delight.
Josh Bergasse created snappy dance numbers which, if not inventive, evoke the period and are enthusiastically performed by the versatile cast of six. All the players, except Creighton, play several roles. Notable is cute Ellen Zolezzi as the devoted Willie, Cagney's future wife, who joins him in "81st Street Rag." They vow their feelings in an amusing, "Falling in Love," although both are unable to say the actual word, "Love." Jeremy Benton as Bob Hope joins Creighton in a frantic tap-off bonanza with "Crazy 'Bout You." Another catchy touch seats the four screenwriters on chairs wearing tap shoes to simulate typing. Sabath, with a commanding voice and stage presence, aptly portrays the dapper and overbearing Warner and in several numbers, Danette Holden, as his long-suffering secretary, Jane, joins him in "A Work of Genius."
Costumes by Amy Clark are stylish, and period perfect, with glam touches of feathers and deco glitz. Jack Warner resembles a Hollywood big-shot in his broad-shouldered, pin-striped suit. The set by James Morgan replicates a theater, with an indigo Art Deco type proscenium and the five-piece band set in back.
While the original music is spirited, the crowd-pleasers come from the liberal use of the George M. Cohan canon. Ending act one is a rousing, "Grand Old Flag." The closer is, "Yankee Doodle Dandy" and a popping "USO Medley" punctuates the singing-dancing voltage of Robert Creighton and his team of high-steppers. Creighton clearly presents James Cagney as a lot more than the tough guy in tap shoes.
