Review: FOUR SHOWS Show the Variety Offered by the Venue That's 41 Years Old: Don't Tell Mama

Back in the 1960s there was a…. Wait a minute.  Why is it that I so often seem to be “back in the 1960s” when I enter the Manhattan spot called Don’t Tell Mama on West 46th Street, a neighbor to the Broadway theatres?  Well, the venue’s very name comes from the title of a song in the musical Cabaret, first seen in 1966. Recently, I saw several shows at DTM. One featured Anita Gillette, who was a standby for the leading role, and then inherited it near the end of its original run.  During that decade, the name of Noel Coward was seen on Broadway marquees as composer, lyricist, scriptwriter, or director, and his songs (including a couple from the 1961 musical Sail Away) are brought to life with style by Jason Henderson.  Therese Lee’s show included numbers from musicals of the ‘60s — Bye Bye Birdie, Little Me, Drat! The Cat! and The Fig Leaves Are Falling. The 1960s are ancient history, however, to the performers in another presentation at the venue, as they weren’t even born until after the 21st century was already underway; they did mostly show tunes of more recent vintage, although one ‘60s score was represented: Funny Girl.

Ricky Ritzel’s Broadway is a merry monthly happening at the club (as demonstrated in this photo montage above), with the irrepressible Mr. R. presiding at the piano, ivories and fancies tickled, with anecdotes and songs related to musicals that got great and not-so-great receptions on the Great White Way.  This time, the lion’s share of storytelling and singing was given to veteran Anita Gillette who, with gusto and ageless adorability, recreated some songs from her musical theatre past. She told tales of wonderful and worrisome times, recalling the legendary flop of Kelly, being frank about Frank Gorshin in Jimmy (he’d sometimes be a no-show for the show-ending bow), and how Ray Bolger was not a ray of sunshine in All American (he’d do a whole post-bows segment alone while the company just stood, trapped on stage waiting and waiting). But then there were the good times, like playing the daughter of the POTUS in Mr. President and getting a Tony nomination for Chapter Two.  Contributing to the night’s festivities – handling those musicals’ songs that were not Miss Gillette’s solos — were Sidney Myer (Don’t Tell Mama’s anchor, captain, and prize), Aaron Morishita, Jon Satrom, and Tara Martinez.

And, although I loved hearing them all, I was chagrined that the last two mentioned on this list of talented guests were gazing down at sheet music or a lyric page on a music stand, even though they’d each only been tasked with one number. And now I pull out my soapbox to rant: Why, when, and how has it become increasingly “acceptable” for anyone performing for a paying audience to use this crutch rather than memorizing material? I know I’m not an army of one in this opposition, and I’(M) Willing to make signs for the march that state our protest’s preferred protocol for singers who are offered a solo in a cabaret show: “Earn It!! Learn It!! – Or Turn It Down!!”  ….OK, back to the review…..Ricky Ritzel surprised and charmed his charming guest by serenading Anita Gillette with “Once Upon a Time,” the ballad heard in All American once upon a time.  And she surprised and charmed him (and us) by joining in.  It isn’t news that she’s a treasure.  Ricky Ritzel’s next trip down Broadway’s memory lane at the club comes up the day after Thanksgiving, and this popular series is a reason for giving thanks.  

Don’t Tell Mama opened in 1982, the year the world was also introduced to the compact disc, saw the first computer virus, and it’s when the British musical Cats came to Broadway to begin its 18-year run, and the diaries of British and Broadway favorite Sir Noel Coward were posthumously published.  Jason Henderson has a mischievous grin, like the Cat that swallowed the canary, but what he’s captured instead is the spirit and spunk of Noel Coward. (Photo below shows bespectacled Mr. Henderson with fellow Noel Coward admirer/interpreter Steve Ross, who came to see the show twice.)

There is zeal in the New Zealand transplant’s triumphant trajectory through the repertoire. There’s just the right, ripe retro amount of starch and arch attitude to be neo-Noel, but the megawatt twinkle in his eye assures us that his tongue is in his cheek and it’s all for fun.  Directed by Barry Kleinbort, it’s a class act with an instantly likeable, savvy fellow and smooth sailing.  In Getting to Noel You, much of the amusing spoken autobiographical content concerns the time spent in day jobs as an office employee, and his delicious delivery somehow makes the tale of a battle with a copy machine something you’d want a copy of.  And then there’s the sweet saga about the stapler that could suggest an attachment, if pressed.  Having Christopher Denny on stage to provide smart, artful piano accompaniment and arrangements is a bountiful blessing. If you venture into a venue and see him sitting at the keyboard before a singer takes the mic, you can sit back and thank your lucky stars, as have the lucky stars of cabaret past and present such as Julie Wilson, Nancy LaMott, Karen Mason, and many at the Cabaret Convention must have done. 

Coward’s delightfully detailed descriptions and rushes of rhymes in songs such as  “Nina” and “I Went to a Marvelous Party” were handled with aplomb. To quote the lyric of the latter, “I couldn’t have liked it more.”  His cheery “I Like America” was like a fresh breeze, and he spoke of coming back and forth between New Zealand and New York to reach new heights and make new friends. Revealing a little more vulnerability and self-doubt would give the needed context to allow the wistful “If Love Were All” to be even more touchingly tender. He and the song have that potential. The classic “I’ll See You Again,” which is threaded through the program, is affecting and is a subliminal vow — visa and fate permitting — that we’ll see him again and again and again.  (He’s back at DTM in December.)

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Another night at Don’t Tell Mama was a return for talented Therese Lee, who can sing with plenty of power or pull back for pensive passages that can be even more impactful.  In her autobiography-heavy Riding the Bus to the Red Carpet she takes the microphone in hand to sing and tell of her time as a cash-strapped Californian working with mic in hand to interview celebrities at events. “Just Go to the Movies” by Jerry Herman is a nifty sum-up of her love of classic films. As a devotee of newer ones, too, brief close encounters with stars could be memorable, but the work could also be maddening.  And she wasn’t getting any younger. Nobody said life would be easy, but Carol Channing told her that being in one’s 40s was no cause for despair.  

One school of thought among cabaret connoisseurs is that you must open up to the audience so they will relate to you with strong empathy and emotions as you — here comes that overused verb —-SHARE your own personal — here comes that overused noun — JOURNEY.  Therese Lee gets to it right off the bat. “If You Knew My Story” is her opening number, trumpeting the fact that we’re gonna hear that story of struggles, with the rapid-fire list of personal woes and lows spelled out between sections of this survivor’s song. This demands/expects the listener to instantly care. It’s a risk. It can feel a little like being at a bar when the stranger next to you, who’s drowning his sorrows and downing too many drinks, turns to you and pours his heart out. If you’re patient, you listen and might be pulled in.  I was patient. I listened. She pulls it off.  Later, she pushes things further, going into a very dark place that might be T.M.I., triggered by an insensitive element in a film purporting to be funny.  Along the way, there was perspective, life-affirming positivity, and crisply etched scenarios of meeting stars like George Clooney (the OMG moment of “He Touched Me”) and gratitude  with “Thanks for the Memory,” one of two numbers fashioned with additional lyrics by the singer and her director, Jeff Harnar, who knows the ropes of cabaret as a veteran performer, too.  And pianist Doug Peck joins Therese Lee for the counterpoint partnering on the bright “One Step.” It feels like a happy ending or, better yet, and a new beginning.

I also stopped by for a showcase afternoon giving kids and teens coached by the staff of B.K.A. (Broadway Kids Auditions) a chance to strut their stuff.  We were packed in tight, like sardines, at Don’t Tell Mama, among their performers’ mamas and so many other family members and friends and other interested parties whooping and applauding in support and encouragement. And, while vociferous, it was not undeserved.  The  “coachees” showed talent, poise, and energy.  Oh sure, some were a bit less polished and greener (it’s not easy being green) and a few could use notes on which notes could use more care or restraint, but they did well.  The company, overwhelmingly female (with just two boys among them), presented songs from musical theatre, with introductory comments indicating connections to the selections. Some had played the roles, some were mesmerized by seeing the musical in question.  What a relief to see that B.K.A. is not trotting out an assembly line of young people brazenly belting, coasting on acting cute or coy rather than attempting to act the emotions.  And major kudos for the high percentage of age-appropriate song choices.  It does the under-18 performer no favor to force-fit clearly adult-specific musical expressions onto them in a concert setting when they can better and more comfortably inhabit material from a younger point of view.  They’ll have plenty of years to grow into grown-up material.  

And that’s just a small sample of the kind of variety that might await you in a typical month in the two cabaret rooms of the busy place called Don’t Tell Mama.

See the Don't Tell Mama website  HERE

Ricky Ritzel's Broadway plays 11/24, get tickets HERE.

Jason Henderson plays 12/4, get tickets HERE.

Photo montage of Ricky Ritzel’s Broadway with Anita Gillette courtesy of Debbie Damp.

Photos of Sidney Myer and Therese Lee both by Conor Weiss 

Photo of Jason Henderson with Steve Ross by Kevin Alvey

 

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