Review: Pewitt's Star Turn Electrifies Keeton Theatre's ANNIE GET YOUR GUN

There's something about Tonya Pewitt, a certain, almost indefinable, something that makes her an ideal musical theater leading lady (perhaps, we admit, that's a dated term in these politically correct times - we are, after all, in the 21st century and the election of the first woman president of the United States seems imminent - but in regard to Ms. Pewitt, we use the term affectionately, respectfully and even reverently), attributes that she has accumulated, if you will, in a lifetime spent as a fan of classic Broadway and film musicals. She's charming and oh-so-engaging, beautifully alive onstage in a way only great musical theater stars can be when the follow spot hits them upon their first entrance.

Tonya Pewitt is, without question or danger of fulsome exaggeration, electrifying. There's magic in her voice, a sense of lighter-than-air whimsy that is paired with down-to-earth gravitas that makes her watchable every time she steps onto a stage. Without question, she's beautiful - her sparkling eyes and ready smile attest to that - but what is most intriguing about her is that there is a serious young woman and dedicated stage artist beneath the drop-dead gorgeous veneer. Tonya Pewitt may look every inch the quintessential leading lady, but there's the part of her which shows you her depth as an individual and her complete and total devotion to her craft.

So it should come as no surprise whatsoever that her current star turn as "little sure shot" Annie Oakley, in The Larry Keeton Theatre's production of Irving Berlin's classic Annie Get Your Gun, is so wondrously magical or that Pewitt and company deliver a stunning revival of the show, replete with a bevy of showtune standards that remain as spectacular today as they did when the show bowed on the Great White Way in 1946.

Directed with a sense of elan and stylish theatrical glee by The Keeton's artistic director Jamie London, with superb musical direction by Ginger Newman (the woman knows her stuff!) and sprightly, energetic choreography by Taylor Tracey (fresh off her own starmaking turn in the company's Cabaret), Annie Get Your Gun continues to entertain and to delight audiences with its confectionery take on the story of Oakley and her relationship with marksman Frank Butler, the man who would be her boss, her husband, her lover and her rival for the rest of their lives, and the story is told in fine fashion thanks to the credible performances of Pewitt and Chris Cavin, the towering, barrel-chested baritone who plays Frank Butler to perfection in his own starry, if somewhat understated, fashion.

Here's something to ponder, dear members of the theaterati: Berlin came to the project of musicalizing the story of Oakley and Butler quite by accident. Jerome Kern was originally tapped to compose the musical, written by siblings Dorothy and Herbert Fields, but he died suddenly and unexpectedly from a cerebral hemorrhage. Producers Richard Rodgers and Oscar Hammerstein II came a-calling, as it were, to entice him to join the project and, despite his initial reluctance, Berlin took up the challenge. And that which resulted from this astonishing example of Broadway alchemy (like the capture of so much lightning in a bottle) is the show we've come to love and venerate as Annie Get Your Gun. (That, for all intents and purposes concludes today's musical theater history lesson, gentle reader.)

Thus, the show's place among the paradigm-shifting, epoch-creating, standard-shattering musical theater classics of all time was cemented, and the show's wealth of theatrical wonders continues to enthrall and entertain to this day. That's despite the creakiness of the Fieldses' original book, complete with enough era-appropriate yet not-so-subtle racism that has proven problematic for producers over the intervening decades. Thanks, however, to an updating of the script in 1999 by Peter Stone, most of those alarming moments have been excised from the book, leaving audiences with a treatment that is now more buoyant and acceptable by contemporary standards of interpersonal interactions.

There are still some cringe-worthy lines to be found, but they seem far less harsh and distracting than those original words were (no matter your political leanings) and the story, which is still far-fetched enough to amuse, yet serious enough to elucidate, flows more smoothly and rather effortlessly in the process.

To say that the role of Annie Oakley could have been written expressly for the talents of Miss Pewitt is understatement and to consider that she models her performance on that of film star Betty Hutton is staggering. She has claimed that film treatment of Annie Get Your Gun is her favorite revival of the stage show and it seems ideally suited to her own particular skill set. Hutton's star turn as Annie - and, by turns, Pewitt's - seems built upon a shared, if metaphorical, foundation of creativity and imagination. The Annie created by the pair of women (separated as they are by decades and the vagaries of life) is enormously appealing and rapturously played onscreen and onstage.

Like Hutton, who never achieved the level of stardom she so richly deserved, Pewitt possesses the ethereal beauty of "everywoman," the ability to play any role with equal amounts of allure and pathos, the blending of which guarantees anything they do to be spellbinding. That's not to say, however, that Pewitt's performance seems like a caricature or as if she phoned in a Turner Classic Movies version of Annie Oakley, to mix my own metaphors. Rather, she seizes upon the inspiration of a much-loved replication of the character in order to create her own mesmerizing facsimile of the altogether original American heroine that millions of schoolchildren have come to know over the past century or so of written accounts of Oakley's life.

Pewitt and Cavin are ideally cast opposite each other and their height difference (she's petite, he's really tall) helps to reinforce their differences, physically, while their slightly awkward interactions make the pair's eventual love match all the more appealing - and believable. Their refreshing take on "Old-Fashioned Wedding," with their individual views on traditional love and marriage (more as it appeared in the mid-1940s when the show was written, instead of the 1880s time setting of the play), is winningly performed.

This particular production's opening scene got off to a rocky start on opening night (which may easily be blamed on the realities of opening night nerves that come after a particularly hellish "tech week" at the theater), with the focus of London's cast jumbled and somewhat askew), but by the time Pewitt bounds onto the stage, exuding confidence and energy, the show easily rights itself so that the subsequent two-and-a-half hours of music, dance and spectacle becomes the show business fable it has always been.

Berlin's score is exquisitely memorable. The theatrical anthem "There's No Business Like Show Business" remains as potent and emotionally moving as ever - seriously, listen to the lyrics...if you aren't moved by the feelings engendered by those words, then you need to reconsider your own role in the business of the show - and as rousing and redoubtable as they could possibly be. "Doin' What Comes Natur'lly," "The Girl That I Marry," "You Can't Get a Man With a Gun," "They Say It's Wonderful," "Old-Fashioned Wedding" and "Anything You Can Do" are as good as it gets in musical theater, and the sense of Americana "gee whiz" and whimsy evoked by the score cannot be discounted.

Berlin's heretofore untapped ability to write songs that define "character" or to set a scene is, in retrospect, another of the show's strengths. You need look no further that Annie's paean to unrequited love, "I Got Lost in His Arms," to see how Berlin is able to underscore her longing for acceptance and a life of middle-class respectability, and it's performed with Pewitt's trademark ability to break one's heart with an emphasis on a particular word or phrase. Conversely, Frank's "My Defenses Are Down," performed by Cavin and the ensemble's male members with resolute commitment, is almost uproariously fun, yet deceptively genuine.

And then there's the rousing Act Two showstopper - "I Got the Sun in the Morning" - that provides a robust and colorful jolt of sheer exuberance to spur on the cast and audience to new heights.

For the show's juvenile leads, Stella London as Winnie Tate and Austin Jeffrey Smith as Tommy Keeler, are given two of the score's more interesting novelty songs - "I'll Share It All With You" and "Who Do You Love, I Hope" (Tracey's choreography is terrific!) - and the two young actors perform them with alacrity and style: London shows tremendous confidence and stage presence as Winnie, while Smith displays an ever-impressive ability to take on any theatrical challenge with aplomb.

Among the ensemble's members, standouts include Beverly Grant as the wickedly wizened Dolly Tate, Earl Landree as the bumbling Charlie Davenport, Katie Earl as the deceptive hotelier Mrs. Wilson, Cary Street as a gender-bending Pawnee Bill, Larry Rhodes as a befuddled Buffalo Bill and Patrick Goedicke as the taciturn Sitting Bull.

Jim Manning's set provides a good backdrop for the play's action and various scenes and setting in its particularly appropriate rough-hewn way and is another feather in the cap of Music City's peripatetic scenic designer/director/producer. Ashley Wolfe's colorful array of costumes clothe the cast in garments reminiscent of the era, with enough showbiz pizzazz to present a visual treat for the audience's pleasure. The production's lighting design, by Stella London and Coleton Wood, is nicely atmospheric and illuminating.

The production's most obvious shortcoming, however, is the lack of technical wizardry that renders the show's scenes of Annie and Frank's marksmanship laughably disappointing - and that's all we'll say about that.

• Annie Get Your Gun. Book by Herbert and Dorothy Fields. Music and Lyrics by Irving Berlin. Directed by Jamie London. Music direction by Ginger Newman. Choreography by Taylor Tracey. Presented by The Larry Keeton Theatre, Donelson. Running through October 22. For details, go to www.thelarrykeetontheatre.org. For tickets, call (615) 883-8375. Running time: 2 hours, 45 minutes.

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