As the ur-backstage musical, ironically first "staged" on screen, 42nd Street is famous for its story of the small-town girl who steps out of the chorus of a show opening on Broadway, replaces the incapacitated leading lady. and becomes a star. With her last-minute triumph, she restores her director to fame, keeps cast and crew from falling out of work in hard times, and finds off-stage romance with her on-stage partner. It's all with the blessings of the last star, who hooks up with a romantic offstage co-star of her own. But at the Golden Apple, the songs, rather than their performers or dancing to and around them, are what save the show.
From a physical standpoint alone, few of the cast would get past a Broadway stage door. Not true, however, of Roberta MacDonald, looking and acting every inch savvy Dorothy Brock, the old headliner with a new financier beau (Al Jackson's rightly corny Abner). Kyle Ennis Turoff also gets down to the right brass tacks as Maggie, a sort of stage-managing song writer who's gold toward boss and cast. Choreographer Charlene Clark has catchy enthusiasm as a leading chorine and does very well interpreting her own takes on Gower Champion's dances. Unfortunately, her very fake red wig resembles a chia pet. Still, she has more personality than her equal - but not superior - in dance, Jillian Johnson, whose popularity with her fellow dancers and tenor Billy Lawlor receives little substantiation. Tommy O'Donnell (Billy) enthuses as if on cue and seems to dance by the numbers, though his singing for the Apple has improved. Not so, Ian Sullivan's. He looks to be suffering both physical and psychological pangs (along with a bad hair day) as director Julian, even after his longed-for show succeeds. Motives for such desperation seem unclear, such as why he feels he need to have mobsters threaten Dorothy's true love, Pat Denning, for Don Walker presents him mildly, sympathetically, and his rival Abner never seems a violent type. Scenes follow choppily, cutting out plot niceties and motivations, but the whole drags.
"We're in the Money" and "Shuffle Off to Buffalo" come none too soon with their liveliness, despite being danced in close quarters. MacDonald's "You'll Never Know" lacks schmaltz, but she sparkles at "About a Quarter to Nine." The most nimble-footed of the women share their fun with "Go Into Your Dance." Without much power or pageantry, "Lullabye of Broadway" is just one of many good numbers, per se, and also well played by John Visser with his much-amplified little trio. Pared down sets--sometimes with somber lighting - don't help verify the Apple's slogan, "Broadway on the Suncoast." Only the silvery costumes for "You're in the Money" reflect up-north glitter.
