Theater Review
Talented singing cast sizzles at 5th Avenue

By Misha Berson
Seattle Times theater critic

CHRIS BENNION "Smokey Joe's Cafe" cast members, from left, include Sarah Rudinoff, Charlie Parker and Lisa Estridge.

E-mail this article Print this article Search archive Most read articles Most e-mailed articles

Other links Search event listings

As teenagers, Jerry Leiber and Mike Stoller already had a knack for dashing off catchy pop tunes you couldn't get out of your head. And they kept it up, stocking American jukeboxes in the '50s and '60s with such novelties as "Love Potion No. 9," sexy smashes like "Jailhouse Rock" and solid-gold anthems, including "Stand By Me."

The Broadway revue "Smokey Joe's Cafe" relied entirely on powerhouse vocalists and a batch of Leiber and Stoller hits for its nostalgia value and lengthy success.

In an energetic new production at 5th Avenue Theatre, director Bill Berry has pasted the same tunes into a sonic scrapbook of friends going through high school in the '50s, and regathering as adults in the '60s.

The new format is loose, to say the least. It adds an extra dab of comedy here, a dollop of romantic tension there. But at heart, "Smokey Joe's Cafe" is still all about the songs and the singing. And if the 5th Avenue's version doesn't always blast your socks off, or go for the gritty, it's an enjoyable evening with some talented Seattle performers claiming center stage.

What distinguished Leiber and Stoller from other tunesmiths who began their careers in New York's Brill Building song factory: Carole King, Neil Sedaka, Barry Mann?

"Smokey Joe's Cafe" runs Tuesdays-Sundays through Nov. 7, 5th Avenue Theatre, 1308 Fifth Ave., Seattle; $18-$70 (www.ticketmaster.com or 206-292-ARTS).

Their "cross-over" versatility. With an assist at times from co-writers (Phil Spector, Doc Pomus), they adeptly employed traditionally black musical idioms, as well as white bubble-gum pop. Whether spinning a tune for blues shouter Big Mama Thornton or swivel-hipped rocker Elvis, smoothie R & B group The Coasters or vampy singer Peggy Lee, these guys roamed the range.

Staged on an array of platforms and stairs (designed by Tom Sturge and Jeffrey Cooke), suggesting a maze of New York alleyways and fire escapes, "Smokey Joe's Cafe" starts with frothy teen scenes, ensemble tunes and costumer Nanette Acosta's pastel swirl of period wigs and togs.

One of Berry's best strokes is to meld several solid male singers — dynamic Ty Willis, the sweet, stocky tenor Bobby Hardy, fervent Brandon O'Neill and smoothie Marc Cedric Smith — into a quartet of street-corner serenaders.

They handle the close harmonies of old Coasters and Drifters hits ("Dance with Me," "On Broadway") with class and zest. On other numbers they're joined by Louis Hobson. But with his leading-man looks and intensity, Hobson also gets a lot of solo spots. His music-theater vibrato and careful articulation make "Ruby Baby" and "Spanish Harlem" too neat, but he loosens up enough to deliver a rowdy "Jailhouse Rock" later.

	CHRIS BENNION The 5th Avenue Theatre delivers an energetic new production of "Smokey Joe's Cafe."

Apart from gifted Billie Wildrick's tender handling of "Falling," the gals on hand don't get to break out until the second half. Grabbing her opportunities with gusto, bluesy young comer Charlie Parker practically torches the place with a slowed-up, smoldering "Hound Dog" and a gospel-fired "Saved."

In her first 5th Avenue gig, Sarah Rudinoff clowns for laughs but also holds her own vocally — particularly on "Pearl's A Singer," a bittersweet story-song John Prine might have written.

Lisa Estridge also gets in comedic licks, with a deliciously sassy, strutting "Don Juan" (a Peggy Lee revenge oldie). But Estridge fans might wish she'd scale down her straining vocal pyrotechnics elsewhere. Same goes for O'Neill, whose tonsil-scraping "I (Who Have Nothing)" grabs applause but is way too "American Idol" for Leiber-Stoller.

If Hardy and Smith aren't so flashy, their robust singing and ingratiating presences add a lot here. And Willis gets to show off an ebullient stage personality often hidden in smaller 5th Avenue roles. (By the by: Willis and Estridge are the only true dancers onstage, when it comes to giving Jane Lanier's rudimentary choreography some oomph.)

A combo led by R.J. Tancioco supplies the smokin' instrumentals for "Smokey Joe's Cafe," yet needs to take more care not to rush matters (most glaringly in "On Broadway"), and drown out uptempo vocal solos. This is, after all, a singer's show.

Misha Berson: mberson@seattletimes.com

Copyright © 2004 The Seattle Times Company

E-mail this article

Print this article

Search archive

More Entertainment & the Arts headlines...