A rockin' tribute to music legend

Lightning finally strikes in the 5th Avenue Theatre's "Buddy: The Buddy Holly Story," when a gangly young Texas musician records his song "Everyday."

The whimsical ballad is embellished with a chorus played on the celesta, a bell-like keyboard instrument. The tune and arrangement are so enchanting and catchy, that's when it begins to sink in -- why the proto-rocker Buddy Holly was a true original.

And why his singular blend of musical simplicity, daring, wildness and naiveté, changed the course of American and British pop. Forever.

Up until Holly's "Everyday," the biomusical "Buddy" (which ran for more than a decade in London and has also toured widely) is no great shakes. It's hobbled by a clunky biographical book (by Alan Janes and Rob Bettinson), bland country-western numbers and rudimentary acting by musician Billy Joe Huels (a theater neophyte who plays the titular character).

But if you can stick with it, things rev up as Holly begins his pop-chart ascent, and the catchy hits ("Peggy Sue," "Words of Love") just keep on coming -- as the stilted dialogue thins out.

That's when Huels -- a fine singer-instrumentalist who has Buddy's drawl down, and looks cool in his horn-rimmed specs and black pompadour -- starts channeling Holly. Through his music.

Bottom line: The music is the reason to see "Buddy." The Holly standards are little gems, infectious beauts dispatched with authority and verve by Huels (who heads up the twangy Seattle band The Dusty 45s), Eric Chappelle and other able local players under Richard Gray's musical direction.

Director David Bennett injects some period atmosphere by projecting funky, mock-documentary film images of Texas, New York City and those big, whirring tape recorders used in the predigital age. There's also fun flash in the bouffant dresses, sharp suits and retro costumes.

"Buddy" picks up on Holly's short life starting in 1956, when he was a teen performer on Texas radio. We see him rejecting the placid country-western grooves he grew up on and brashly defying anyone trying to thwart his fresh sound. But after exhausting that rebel-with-a-cause stuff, "Buddy" gains traction by cranking up Holly's music and other late-'50s pop genres.

In an extended segment, Holly and his group, the Crickets, become the first white act to play Harlem's Apollo Theatre -- to the surprise of the black audience, who had assumed the band was also black.

In Act 2, Holly's whirlwind courtship of his wife, Maria Elena (Jennifer Paz), is enacted. But the main focus is a rousing concert in Clear Lake, Iowa, on Feb. 2, 1959.

On that fateful date in rock history, 22-year-old Holly played his last gig, with touring mates J.P. Richardson ("the Big Bopper," played with jivin' gusto by Kelly Van Camp) and Latino rocker Ritchie Valens (Brandon O'Neill, who blazes through Valens' smash, "La Bamba"). Later that night, all three men perished in a plane crash. But "Buddy" celebrates them by reviving their music.

This is restrained Seattle, so on opening night the 5th Avenue audience didn't jump to their feet and rock along until the show's final number (Holly's "Rave On"). But if you see "Buddy," you'll make the hard-working performers happier if you start raving earlier, and keep on raving.