Jerry’s Girls

Jerry’s Girls
Music and Lyrics by Jerry Herman. Directed by Dean Bryant. The Production Company. Playhouse, Arts Centre Melbourne. November 21 – December 6, 2015

I adore Jerry Herman. He understands Leading Ladies better than any other Broadway composer and his songs for them are iconic. And last night his “Girls” were fantastic. If you take eleven of our finest leading ladies and let them loose singing these songs you would have every right to expect a triumph. And, indeed, you almost get it. The “Girls” are (mostly) sensational, which is even more remarkable given the handicap they have to overcome. The handicap comes in the form of writer/director Dean Bryant. Mr Bryant has concluded that’s what’s missing, despite the amazing performers and the sensational music of Herman, is a comic backstory; a libretto, a script by Dean Bryant, starring Dean Bryant (played by the terrific Brent Hill), set in a rehearsal room as he tries to bring together the collective egos of 11 super talented women. It works for a short while, and is even cute initially, but it can’t be sustained because it is a conceit, and it pulls focus away from the core of the show. Wisely, he is not credited in the programme for the script.

Nevertheless I am impressed that amidst the vitriolic “Piss-Taking” of the songs and the performers, Bryant is perhaps hardest on himself. His director character (Brent Hill) is pretentious, bereft of original ideas, makes bad choices just to be different, lacks any respect for the core material and inevitably resorts to drag. Wow…that’s a brave stance to take and Hill relishes every moment of the role. But the show is called Jerry’s Girls, not Dean’s Girls, and it would be a far better production if there were more of Herman and less of Bryant on display. It’s a travesty to send up brilliant Broadway material which is already a send up, and diminish and demean it in the process. Self indulgence with in-jokes that mean nothing to an audience who are not “In the Business” is NEVER excusable if it damages rather than enhances a show.

So Gooch’s song from Mame – which is a comic gem with a laugh in every line, and was beautifully geared for the fabulous Virginia Gay, was mutilated by making her change her accent every eight bars…so we had Brooklyn, Cockney, French, Southern….there were more, but I immediately blanked them out in shocked disbelief. Nevertheless Gay was superb as both Mack AND Mabel in “I Won’t Send Roses”. She’s a delightful performer with great presence.

Despite Herman’s great songs suffering from the whole process; the talent of Gay and the rest of the ladies, is simply too great to sublimate altogether. Rhonda Burchmore camped it up with her spins and her quasi “rich bitch” persona…but when left alone she showed us WHY she’s a star with ‘If He Walked Into My Life Today’ and even managed to put some credibility into Bosom Buddies …where her bizarre feud with Gay is suddenly imposed from out of nowhere. Silvie Paladino survived all the deprecation of her “Carols by Candlelight” career (as if she hadn’t done anything since Les Mis when she was 18, when in fact she is one of our most prolific leading ladies) and gave “The Director” a metaphorical middle finger with a superb version of “Time Heals Everything” (what a song…what a singer!).

Nancye Hayes…well, she’s Nancye….she’s a Superstar in the twilight of her career. We know that, we don’t need it shoved down our throat. She is 100% talent and 200% class and always will be. She commands attention, owns the stage and deserves everyone’s respect. She can still hold us in thrall, look sensational, and nail a number like “Two A Day” or the wistful “And I Was Beautiful”. The suggestion that she had trouble learning a soft shoe number from the very talented Kirby Burgess (Boy I want to see her in the next revival of Chicago…and a great voice along with her dancing) is insulting to her and the audience….she is, and always has been, a dancer!

And I’m pretty sure that the lovely Chelsea Gibb isn’t bitter and twisted that (apparently) her career peaked 17 years ago. She’s done great work since, looks a million bucks, and can still stop a show.

Christie Whelan Browne is always sensational, with a wicked sense of comic timing, but she can also bring real poignancy to a song, as she did with the lovely “Song On The Sand” where at least, in one truly original moment, the “Girls” got to tell the story of how they fell in love with the men in their lives.

Natalie O’Donnell, far from being a neurotic “pleaser”, is a mature grounded woman of great talent, and she hit just the right tone for the lovely ‘It Only Takes a Moment’, Claire Lyon gave us “Ribbons Down My Back” (with the great Jill Perryman, originator of the song here, watching from the audience) – but a truly unattractive blue dress, so wrong for the song, detracted from her voice. And the magic performance of the night came from the amazing Debora Krizak as an overblown aging stripper doing her “Put It On” version of “Take It All Off”. It was hysterical, and sad and endearing and scary all at the same time. She was simply marvellous.

That left Josie Lane – a relative newcomer with a huge voice. She’s not yet a true leading lady but she undoubtedly will be. Sadly, she is thrown to the wolves in this production. Played as someone who can’t dance and whom The Director is dismissive of, she isn’t given a solo number until the very last minute when she is suddenly….for no discernable reason given Herman’s most iconic song – ‘I Am What I Am’ - a song which is an anthem to millions of people (I remember Judy Connelli’s brilliant rendition in the 90s. Pant-suited and androgynous, she added extra layers to the lyrics). There’s no doubt she has the vocal chops to do it justice, but she is far too young for such a mature song. As an extra handicap they put her in a Pink nylon gathered skirt Princess dress so that she looks like a badly dressed 16-year-old going to a party. The song loses its powerful message, its gravitas and its ability to raise goose-bumps; it was such a letdown.

It’s hard to explain to many people how you can love performances and music, and yet loathe a script and direction. The kind of cheap send-up laughs Bryant seems to favour – camp and bitchy – is the stuff of Cabaret and drag shows, not legitimate theatre. Exhilarated by the fabulous talented performers, yet dismayed by the direction; I loved and hated it at the same time.

Coral Drouyn

Photographer: Jeff Busby.

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