Strike up the band.
Whenever Boulder’s Dinner Theatre’s stellar nine-piece orchestra strikes up, its classy new staging of “The 1940s Radio Hour” is a little slice of broadcasting heaven. A superb cast of 13 harmonizing on classics like “Kalamazoo,” Alicia Dunfee singing “Blues in the Night,” tappers tapping to “Strike Up The Band” — this is the kind of fare BDT does better than anyone.
This is an elegant evening of nostalgia, big-band music and a melancholy reminder of when patriotism in wartime was a shared American value.
It’s Dec. 21, 1942 (the same year Anne Frank took to her attic), in a tiny New York radio station that’s about to broadcast its musical variety hour for a live studio audience (us).
Of course, this is all just an elaborate excuse for a music and comedy revue, and what a revue it is, with its classic big-band songs like “Boogie Woogie Bugle Boy” and delightful ballads like “How About You?” The comedy comes mostly from actual radio commercials writer Walton Jones dug up from the archives pitching laxatives, deodorants and such.
But then there’s “the rest of the show,” the mostly unscripted surrounding stage business in the near-complete absence of plot. This is meticulously controlled chaos that’s meant to let us get to know the characters and their relationships. There isn’t a single song for the first half hour as we meet the fussy station manager, an old curmudgeon who takes side bets, the self-destructive leading man, the sax player who’s shipping out for war, and more.
Dunfee’s cast (she’s also the director) is busy enough, but they aren’t communicating enough. So by the time we climax with an Army-bound Biff tooting his final horn before shipping off to war, it lacks emotional depth. It’s a bit flat.
That may be partly attributable to two significant casting liberties. Producer Michael J. Duran has turned buxom black diva Geneva Lee Browne into a buxom white diva (Barb Reeves), and he’s turned sound-effects “man” Lou into Lou-Anne (Cindy Lawrence).
Duran’s motives are true: He runs a resident company, and by changing these two characters, he was able to offer employment to two of his most beloved actors — both mothers — during the holidays. But while that surely makes him a good guy, in neither case does he best service his show.
Let’s face it: Lawrence is a stunning, blond bombshell. You can cover her up in a hat and slacks, but she’s still a stunning, blond bombshell. She’s no harried stage manager, she’s a star. When leading man Johnny Cantone (Brian Norber) implores her to “be a guy,” you just go, “Why?”
The ingenious live sound effects “Lou-Anne” performs, often the highlight of any staging, are here, regrettably, mostly contained to one short scene from “A Christmas Carol.” And while I’m always happy to see Lawrence leading the tap line for the finale, from a character point of view, you have to ask, “Where did that come from?”
More problematic is Geneva. There’s something inherently risky about having any white woman presenting herself as black in nearly every other way. Reeves is a phenomenal singer, an award-winning actor, but her playing Geneva so true almost smacks a bit like blackface.
Then again, Reeves’ take on “I Got it Bad” is spectacular. So I wasn’t at all sure just how troubled all this should make me. I decided to ask Jones himself, since he’s the writer, and he lives in Colorado now (he’s developed a sequel that’s debuting now at the Bas Bleu Theatre in Fort Collins — and he’ll be attending the Boulder show in a few weeks).
In his script, Jones allows for characters to be combined or dropped altogether, but he never intended for character types to be changed completely. If asked, he would have recommended that the part be rewritten to accommodate the actor, perhaps like a Peggy Lee.
Speaking of changes, its doubtful any two companies have ever stuck to the score as written. Here, musical director Neal Dunfee adds two songs — “Don’t Get Around Much” (actually written in 1945) to give a song to BDT crowd favorite Wayne Kennedy (he plays Pops), and “Caravan,” to give the orchestra a chance to jam.
And my, how they jam. “Radio Hour” is, in the end, about the music. And the music triumphs throughout.
John Moore: 303-954-1056 or jmoore@denverpost.com
“The 1940s Radio Hour”
Boulder’s Dinner Theatre, 5501 Arapahoe Ave. Written by Walton Jones and Carol Lees. Directed by Alicia Dunfee. Through Jan. 26. 7 p.m. Wednesdays, 7:45 p.m. Thursdays-Saturdays; 1:45 and 7:45 p.m. Sundays (with dinner service 90 minutes before); additional performances in December. $34-$53. 303-449-6000 or
