Smokey Joe's Cafe
The Encore Musical Theatre Company jumps and rocks to the hits of Jerry Leiber and Mike Stoller in Smokey Joe’s Cafe. The songwriting duo behind the hits “Jailhouse Rock,” “Love Potion #9,” and “Yakety Yak” were integral to the emergence of rock ‘n’ roll as well as solid contributors to the rhythm and blues catalog, as this production’s unbelievably long and memorable playlist attests. Unburdened by meddlesome plot strictures, director and choreographer Barbara F. Cullen and her ensemble cast find themselves free to dig into the jukebox for a whirlwind of reminiscence and lively celebration of 1950s sounds.
This musical revue doesn’t depend on a gimmick or hook to justify itself; its two acts are nothing more than a collection of tunes with their prolific songwriting team in common. Yet the anchor position of a nostalgic group number emphasizing togetherness and the keenly first-person perspective of the lyrics can give the impression that larger themes are going to unfold. Cullen and company wisely take a light hand with the contextual mire: the eight ensemble members suit character choices to the song and moment, never adhering to a single persona, and boys and girls pair off in combinations that avoid strict continuity. A viewer could go cross-eyed scouring the song list and background interactions for hidden meaning, but the company’s efforts are happily expended in a more rewarding pursuit: put simply, the play is the songs, and the songs are great.
The abundant selection of tunes gives each cast member a generous turn at solo performance, in addition to group numbers and backup vocal duty; the parts are meted out to play to the performers’ strengths. This is especially apparent with the women’s numbers, many of which call for a single voice. A kittenish, no-nonsense vixen comes out in Fatima Poggi’s comic, yet sultry, materialistic tease. Amy Smidebush’s extraordinary instrument trembles in a sensitive ballad and soars in a boisterous production number. The girl next door comes out in Thalia Schramm, who puts her whole heart and hopes into every sensitive phrase. Uninhibited vivacity renders Cara Manor a one-woman party, a veritable perpetual-motion machine with moxie to spare.
The men’s songs often call for a quartet full of splashy harmonies: Brian E. Buckner, Tony D. Owens, Jr., Steve DeBruyne, and Sebastian Gerstner also trade lead vocals, but it’s the particular magic of their communion together that elevate their numbers to production favorites. When one initiates a song and the others fairly run across the stage to join him, their genuine joy radiates into the performance. Cullen’s inventive and often wild choreography carries this energy through each number; the steps appear unrelenting, but the entire cast sails through them with gusto. Once again, the focus is on showcasing the best of what each performer has to offer — Buckner in particular makes standout turns both at the piano and through nimble feats of dexterity. However, each of the men has his turn to shine, and it’s better for the support and camaraderie of this tremendous foursome that translates to the stage.
Single and group vocals alike are in fine form, thanks to music director and conductor Cheryl Van Duzen; however, the vocals are sometimes outmatched by the piped-in live accompaniment hidden offstage, a technical gaffe that only occasionally mars the sensational fun of the musical teamwork. Some adornment supports the billowing sounds and bustling movement, but not to an overwhelming extent. A single muted set by designer Leo Babcock adds levels and a tinge of scenic flexibility, while adhering to the extremely neutral sense of location; lights by Matthew Tomich follow the mood, from exuberant overstimulation to sexy cabaret styles. Between sweet, youthful party attire and sparkling showstoppers, Sharon Larkey Urich’s extensive costume design is notable for its surprise, but commendable for its careful fit and tailoring, a must for a show with this much shimmy.
The draws of this Smokey Joe’s Cafe lie in both its broad-spectrum appeal and strong execution: hummable, well-loved songs of the ‘50s; rousing song and dance performances; every choice made solely in the service of fun and entertainment. Viewers in the mood for a musical shot of adrenaline won’t need an engraved invitation to rock along.
February 19, 2012