Review: AN EVENING WITH LEN CARIOU at The Laurie Beechman Theatre Valuable and Unforgettable

This week at The Laurie Beechman Theatre something truly special happened, and it happened in the most unassuming of ways.   On December 16th, the club presented the second in what looks to be (fingers crossed) a new series for the club.  The series is one of those “An Evening With…” interview programs in which an entertainment journalist sits down with a member of the New York City theater community and chats with them, while an accompanist waits on the side to play for a musical number or two.  An Evening With Sandy Duncan was in May and this writer, sadly, could not make it.  Well, after seeing An Evening With Len Cariou, I won’t make that mistake again.  If the kickoff show last May was anything like the ninety minutes we lucky members of the audience this week were treated to, it was certainly worth seeing.  I can’t wait to see what host and interviewer Michael Portantiere comes up with next. 

For AN EVENING WITH Len Cariou, Mr. Portantiere and the Broadway legend sat downstage left while Musical Director to the stars, Mark Janas, waited on the sidelines to provide music for three wonderful numbers sung by the Tony Award winner.  And, when a person calls Len Cariou a legend, it has to be acknowledged as gospel… the man was Sweeney Todd for goodness sake!  And that’s where Portantiere started: with Sweeney Todd.

Michael Portantiere is a good interviewer.  He knows his stuff, he knows his facts, he knows how to talk to a celebrity.  This writer (me) has seen famous television interviewers go ga-ga over their guests.  I’ve seen them blither and say embarrassing things like, “I can’t believe you’re on my show,” and I’ve seen them cry because the were so starstruck by the person sitting beside them, and I’ve seen them commit the cardinal sin of interviewing:  asking a question and then not allowing the guest to speak.  Not one of these things was in the room on December 16th.  The expression on Michael’s face told everyone that he admires, respects, and adores Len Cariou - he didn’t have to embarrass himself or Len with any blithering and blushing.  He didn’t waste Cariou’s time or the audience’s with an overabundance of his own voice - he had his set of questions, he asked them, and he sat back and allowed Mr. Cariou to do the talking (in a moment of hilarity, while Michael was setting up some backstory, Len said, "Let me tell the story" and everyone howled, and Michael, wisely, deferred to his honoree).  Throughout the program, Michael didn’t interrupt, he didn't press, he didn't correct, he asked the questions and sat back; and he moderated the crowd well during the third act q&a, which can be difficult for some.  Hats off to Michael Portantiere for doing this job with grace and class.

Portantiere also didn’t treat the evening like a “This is Your Life” program.  There wasn’t a linear lane to the evening, it was a conversation.  There was talk about Sweeney Todd and there was discussion of A Little Night Music.  There were questions about Applause, and there were explorations about Elizabeth Taylor.  It was a lovely look at Len Cariou’s legacy, in chapters, and in blissful music.   With Mr. Janas expertly and caringly providing accompaniment, Mr. Cariou performed “A Barber and His Wife” and “Pretty Women” from Sweeney Todd (the latter, a truncated version of the song, but a slice of heaven, nevertheless).  For the A Little Night Music section of the show, the audience was treated to something this writer doubts anyone will ever forget.  There was talk of a story that this theater and theatrical history buff never heard before - about how Misters Sondheim and Price promised Mr. Cariou an eleven o’clock number for the show, but how, when it came down the wire, the story was better served, more organically presented, by giving that spot to Glynis Johns - and that was when “Send in the Clowns” was created.  So it felt only natural for Len Cariou to perform the song after telling the tale of losing the spot in 1973.  It was one of the magical moments that makes New York cabaret essential, and, for that matter, interview shows like this, as well.  This is one of the benefits of being New Yorkers.  We have this experience at our fingertips.  The greats are here.  The architects of the history of Broadway are here, and they are still going into clubs to tell their stories and sing their songs.  We must attend these tales, we must document these moments in our minds.  Do you know that I was at Tammy Grimes’ last cabaret performance in New York City?  She was old and frail and read her entire show off of a music stand, the script and the lyrics, from start to finish.  And she was fantastic.  It was a magical evening I and my family will never forget.  Because these are the legends and the icons, and any time they are on a stage, we owe it to ourselves and them to be in the audience.  Anyone who has a grasp of theatrical history (a respect for it), must mark these occasions down in their calendars, set a Google alert, and get their bumms in those seats, luv.   Nobody who was at The Beechman on Tuesday night will ever forget it (PS. Penny Fuller and Lee Roy Reams were in the audience and someone put a mic in their hands, so we got to hear some of THEIR stories, too - come on, now!).  Hearing Len Cariou talk about getting high with Stephen Sondheim, hearing his reminsicences of the care that Dame Elizabeth Taylor put into the presentation she offered her fans, hearing the discreet way he discussed his relationship with Lauren Bacall - these are gems.  They have to be locked into our minds.  To sweeten the deal, Heather Summerhays, Mrs. Cariou, had some stories of her own to offer, from her seat in the second row.  It was like being at a salon in the Cariou living room, only with stellar food and drink service from the Beechman waitstaff, as a bonus.  And it was heartwarming to see how well attended the evening was, as well as the varied demographic of the audience members.

Walking home with my family after the show, we all remarked on how magical those ninety minutes with Len Cariou were, and trust me when I tell you: I will not miss any of the subsequent shows that Michael Portantiere and the D’Angoras put together for The Beechman.  And trust me when I tell you,  you shouldn’t either.

Follow the Laurie Beechman calendar HERE.

Follow Michael Portantiere on Facebook HERE.

Photos by Stephen Mosher