Memphis on Great Performances

Celebrity casting might sell tickets initially, but their commitment to a production is usually limited. However, if a show hires Broadway actors by virtue of their talent, they stand a chance of keeping the original cast together for a long run. Happily such has been the case for Broadway’s Memphis, the Tony Award winning book musical that may no longer qualify as “new” but still remains fresh. Viewers can find out for themselves, either by visiting New York where it continues its crowd pleasing run or by tuning into PBS’s Great Performances, which broadcasts Memphis recorded live in performance with its original cast this coming Friday.

Huey Calhoun is one of the few white residents of Memphis who is either gutsy or innocent enough to frequent the African American clubs on Beale Street. While his presence makes club owner Delray Farrell understandably uneasy, everyone generally accepts the goofy kid because of his obvious affinity for their music. Smitten with Farrell’s sister Felicia, the big talker promises to get her on a major Memphis radio station. Commandeering the broadcast booth of the station owned by the upright and uptight Mr. Simmons, Calhoun lights up the proverbial phone lines spinning R&B for appreciative white teenagers. Suddenly, Calhoun has a steady job.

For a while, Calhoun actually has it all, including a relationship with Farrell. Yet he just does not understand how things really work in Memphis, whereas she is all too aware of reality. Although their love might be impossible in that specific time and place, their music is the future and it is quite catchy indeed.

Though the score by David Bryan (best known as a member of Bon Jovi, but also the composer of the Toxic Avenger musical) is a bit more orchestrated and well, Broadway-sounding than the genuine R&B and rock & roll of the period, it really delivers the goods. “Someday,” Felicia’s first hit in the context of the show, really does sound like it could have been a chart-topper, perhaps for Etta James. Ironically, one of the show’s highlight comes from Derrick Baskin as the mostly silent Gator, who blows everyone away with “Say a Prayer,” the riveting gospel-derived first act closer. However, the standout song is arguably Calhoun’s feature, “Memphis Lives in Me.” It is actually a twofer: musically it is a legitimate showstopper, but it also explains Calhoun’s character better than any of the previous dialogue.

Granted, Joe DiPietro’s book is not exactly the most original treatment of themes and issues that drive Memphis. Of course, clichés become clichés because they work, and audiences will most likely find themselves charmed by Memphis’s likable and vocally talented leads. Frankly, Chad Kimball’s weird affected, nasally accent and rabble rousing man-child demeanor suggests a pronounced Jerry Lee Lewis influence. Sounding totally Beale Street, Montego Glover takes a star-making turn as Felicia, displaying dramatic poise and powerhouse vocal chops. In supporting roles as Calhoun’s Beale Street friends, Baskin and James Monroe Iglehart also make a strong musical impression.

Memphis boasts far more memorable songs than nearly any of its Broadway contemporaries (most of whom have since come and gone), which is the ultimate measure of a musical. Slickly produced and tightly paced, Memphis looks great and sounds soulful. Christopher Ashley’s stage direction holds up well for those of us who saw it in-person during its early months and veteran television director Don Roy King effectively captures the spirit of the show through Broadway Worldwide’s multiple high def cameras. Recorded in January of last year and briefly seen in movie theaters for four days, King’s live-recorded Memphis is highly recommended for both fans and first time audiences when it airs this Friday (2/24) as part of the current season of Great Performances on PBS.

(Photos: Broadway Worldwide)

Memphis on Broadway

The lily white Huey Calhoun has his faults, but he is not trying to appropriate the music of Memphis’s rhythm & blues musicians. While plenty of other people in the music business will be only too willing to do so, all Calhoun wants to steal is the heart of Felicia, a Beale Street diva. In late 1950’s-early 1960’s Memphis, that just cannot happen. At least he can love the music in Memphis, a dynamic new book musical now running on Broadway.

Calhoun is one of the few white residents of Memphis who is either gutsy or innocent enough to frequent the African American clubs on Beale Street. While his presence makes club owner Delray understandably uneasy, everyone generally accepts the goofy kid because of his obvious affinity for their music. A big talker, he promises to get Delray’s sister Felicia on a major Memphis radio station. Commandeering the broadcast booth of the station owned by the upright and uptight Mr. Simmons, Calhoun lights up the proverbial phone lines spinning R&B for appreciative white teenagers. Suddenly, Calhoun has a steady job.

For a while, Calhoun actually has it all, including a relationship with Felicia. Yet he just does not understand how things really work in Memphis, whereas Felicia is all too aware of reality. Although their love might be impossible in that specific time and place, their music is sound of the future and it is catchy indeed.

Though the score by David Bryan (best known as a member of Bon Jovi, but also the composer of the Toxic Avenger musical) is a bit more orchestrated and well, Broadway-sounding than the genuine R&B and rock & roll of the period, it really delivers the goods. “Someday,” Felicia’s first hit in the context of the show, really does sound like it could have been a chart-topper, perhaps for Etta James. Ironically, one of the show’s highlight comes from Derrick Baskin as the mostly silent Gator, who blows everyone away with “Say a Prayer,” the riveting first act closer. However, the standout song is arguably Calhoun’s feature, “Memphis Lives in Me.” It is actually a twofer: musically it is a showstopper, but it also explains Calhoun’s character better than any of the previous dialogue. It would not be surprising if the city of Memphis adopted as their unofficial anthem in the near future.

True, Joe DiPietro’s book is not exactly the most original treatment of themes and issues that drive Memphis. Of course, clichés become clichés because they work, and audiences will most likely find themselves charmed by Memphis’s likable and vocally talented leads. Frankly, Chad Kimball’s weird affected, nasally accent does not sound at all like Memphis, but his energy and powerful singing voice more than compensates. Montego Glover takes a star-making turn as Felicia, displaying dramatic poise and powerhouse vocal chops. In supporting roles as Calhoun’s Beale Street friends, Baskin and James Monroe Iglehart also make a strong musical impression.

Memphis boasts far more memorable songs than most of its Broadway competition, which is the ultimate measure of a musical. Slickly produced and tightly paced, Memphis looks great and sounds soulful. Now running at the Shubert Theatre, it is a spirited show, definitely recommended for R&B listeners and book musical patrons.

On Beale Street

On Beale Street
By Ronald Kidd
Simon & Schuster

In 1954, the Fourth of July fell on a Sunday, leading the churchgoing city fathers of Memphis to postpone the fireworks until the following night. At least that is how today’s holiday is observed in Ronald Kidd’s new YA novel On Beale Street, greatly disappointing the young protagonist Johnny Ross.

For a host of reason, young Ross would be happier up North, the least being fireworks. As the novel opens, he is an innocent white kid, about to get a rude awakening regarding racial realities in 1950’s Memphis. He also gets his first taste of the blues, and it has a powerful effect. He talks his way into a gofer position with Sam Phillips at Sun Records, and meets a shy white singer a few years older than him, who shares his new found taste in music. The name: Elvis.

Tentatively crossing the color line, Ross also befriends African American Lamont Turner, the son of his mother’s employer’s chauffeur-gardener, who happens to blow a mean harp. However, it is his legs that get the most attention:

“Lean and limber, wrapped in loose-fitting purple slacks, they swung and stretched and whipped and gyrated, knees bumping together and circling out again, always moving, never standing still, the pant legs flapping like flags.” (p. 44)

In Beale, it is no coincidence if that brings to mind the moves of Johnny Ross’s other musical friend, destined to create a stir on the Ed Sullivan show. Kidd addresses musical appropriation head-on, when Turner’s accusations make him the prime suspect in an assault (purely fictional) on Presley. It all leads to some hard lessons in race and reality for the young Ross.

When Kidd writes about race he prefers a heavy hand to a light touch. Granted issues of racial identity become central to his plot. Johnny Ross might start the book as an innocent kid, but even so, he seems pretty slow on the up-take. The strongest aspects of Beale are the historically accurate musical details Kidd weaves into his narrative. In addition to Presley, blues musicians James Cotton and Pat Hare also appear in their pre-Muddy Waters days. According to his post-script, Kidd had his manuscript vetted by Scotty Moore, Presley’s first and greatest guitarist, giving Beale his seal of approval.

Kidd is not exactly subtle when imparting his moral and some awkward passages needed greater editorial attention. However, it is a quick read that will explain the significance of the Blues and institutions like Memphis’s African American radio station WDIA to YA readers. It’s Friday night, so enjoy the fireworks. Happy Fourth of July.