By Lauren Smart
By Jane R. LeBlanc
By Lauren Smart
By Elaine Liner
By Jim Schutze
By Rachel Watts
The twist to this revue has boys singing show tunes written for female characters. Girls sing boys' big numbers. And if there's a duet love ballad, you can bet it'll end with a same-sex smooch. Uptown is the Gal-halla of gay-themed material.
This year's show blows wet kisses to recent Broadway hits. Cameron McElyea and Tony Martin, two of the self-confessed straight actors in the cast, sing Avenue Q's comic "If You Were Gay." Suave Donald Fowler is in fine voice on the difficult and haunting "Fable" from Light in the Piazza, sung in that show by the leading lady. Stephanie Hall, Amy Stephenson, Lisa-Gabrielle Greene and Patty Breckinridge do cross-sex camp in two numbers from Altar Boyz. Those lead right into "Heaven on My Mind" from Jesus Christ Superstar. BOW's writer-director Andi Allen makes sure the flow from song to song makes sense in a winking, witty way.
Young William Blake, eliminated way too early from the pack of pimply-faced belters on last year's American Idol, co-starred in Uptown's production of The Who's Tommy and here shows off his muscular vocal cords and newly slim physique on "Sooner or Later" from Putting It Together and "All That Jazz" from Chicago (danced by the cast with Fosse-esque grinds). Blake's a born showstopper, and he does it twice in Broadway Our Way. Any minute now somebody will "discover" this kid and let him do the real Broadway his way.
Both weekends of BOW feature cameos by theater pros from 'round cheer. In the performance reviewed it was Coy Covington, appearing in the first half of the show in a tuxedo to sing an elegant "I Got Lost in His Arms" from Annie Get Your Gun. He returned later in full-glam female get-up (he specializes in women's roles, but don't call him a drag queen or you'll get a press-on nail up the nose) and romped through a pee-in-the-britches funny rendition of "The Grass Is Always Greener" from And the World Goes Round with B.J. Cleveland (who always looks like the late Totie Fields, in or out of a dress). The second weekend's guest is M. Denise Lee, still the diva of all divas in Dallas musicals and last heard blowing the doors off Dallas Theater Center in Crowns.
Stand-up comic Paul J. Williams, co-founder of the Queertown comedy troupe, serves as host of BOW and keeps things moving along with some wisecracks and inside jokes about Uptown shows past and future.
Musical director Lee Harris handles keyboards expertly along with assistant conductor Jeff Crouse and percussionist Jaime Reyes. If the trio wasn't playing in full view of the audience, you'd swear there were three times that many musicians backing up the big-voiced cast.
What hasn't changed is Kleinmann's patented "Living Black and White" visual design that turns the onstage proceedings into a monochromatic mystery. The show begins with a scratchy black-and-white film that depicts a murder (a magician dies during a dangerous "bullet catch" trick). Then the screen rolls up to reveal a stage bathed in the same silvers and grays of an old Hollywood movie. The only color is the actors' tongues, which they're careful to keep tucked inside their black-lipsticked mouths. It's pretty spectacular to watch, even if the plot of the comic mystery itself is as thin as a crackly old strip of celluloid.
Style over substance is OK for Pegasus. Kleinmann's plays are pretty silly affairs centering on the character he plays, hapless detective Harry Hunsacker, a would-be actor who would remain clueless on any case if not for his smarter assistant, Nigel Grouse (Timothy Honnoll, reprising the role). Hunsacker and Grouse stumble into the spooky mansion of the dead magician on the very night the will is being read. But who killed him? Pert assistant Tracy (Carrie Slaughter)? Creepy butler and maid (Steven-Shayle Rhodes, Leslie Patrick)? Or someone else in the large cast?
Kleinmann's too clever to let the butler be the villain, but the ending isn't all that astonishing. Characters aren't well-developed. Jokes are hokey. And on opening night, many of the sleight-of-hand tricks Kleinmann and others attempted either didn't work or were too small to be seen from the upper rows.