The musical revue, despite its popularity, is a curious little genre. Its entire reason for being is music, and the measure of its success is how well it re-creates the concert experience - great songs (and familiar ones) sung well.
On the other hand, a revue can't be honest about itself and offer
only a concert experience. Otherwise, what would separate it from a tribute band at the casino? And so the playwright must spin some dramatic thread, no matter how thin, upon which to string the musical pearls.
Every once in a while, a revue will transcend its genre and achieve dramatic depth, but that's just a bonus. What really matters - and gets those standing O's - is the concert.
With
Ella, an anthology of jazz tunes made famous by the great Ella Fitzgerald, there was never any question that Arizona Theatre Company would deliver the musical goods. The state's leading play producer is the only one that has both the technical expertise and the budget to rival Broadway production values, and in the case of
Ella, it has not one but three other theaters chipping in from around the country.
In addition to a gorgeous set and top-notch backing band, all that clout buys Tina Fabrique, a Tony-nominated Broadway diva who sings the heck out of Ella's songbook. The actress' somewhat husky voice isn't as pure as Fitzgerald's in its prime, but Fabrique has the range, power and finesse to capture the right feel, including the all-important scat singing inspired by bebop horns.
Oh, yes, she has pipes. That's what the audience wants, and they offer their thanks with copious and spontaneous applause, not to mention a pair of standing ovations.
On the dramatic side, however,
Ella doesn't exactly hit the ball out of the park. The action, such as it is, is set at a concert hall in Nice, France, in 1966, where Fitzgerald is preparing for a big show. Urged to be ready with some "patter" for between songs, she finds herself reminiscing about her life.
In the first act, memories of her big break, her first love, etc., serve as introductions to songs from different stages in her career, from her amateur-night debut at the Apollo Theater as a 17-year-old (Hoagy Carmichael's
Judy) to the many standards she made her own as America's "First Lady of Song," including a fiery take on
That Old Black Magic.
The music is great, but the script feels perfunctory. Instead of creating a character, Fabrique is reduced to narrating biographical facts. There's no plot arc or dramatic tension, and the links between the monologues and songs are mostly chronological, without creating any resonance between Fitzgerald's music and her life.
The second act is completely different. After intermission, it's showtime: The play
is the concert. No more flashbacks, no more need to suspend disbelief over why Ella is checking off the details of her life to an empty concert hall. The only spoken lines are her concert patter.
The twist is that the creators of the play haven't simply given up and admitted it's all about the music. Instead, the concert-as-play has all the dramatic elements that the first act lacked.
As Fitzgerald introduces songs and dedicates them to the people in her life, Fabrique is now acting in real time, showing her character's emotions instead of merely telling us about them. Her talk draws the connections between Ella's songs and biography that were missing before, and there's even a genuine dramatic climax as she dedicates a number to her adoptive son, now estranged, who's in the audience.
The irony is that none of this would be possible without the first act. Having sat through a primer on Ella's many loves and losses, the audience knows what it needs to turn the concert into something more, into drama.
No, as a play
Ella isn't a homerun. Instead, the first act is a sort of sacrifice fly: It's not a hit, but it turns the second act into a winner.
Kerry LengelThe Arizona Republic
http://www.azcentral.com/
