It’s hard to say what accumulates faster during the Barry Manilow musical Copacabana, which plays the Fox through this Sunday -- costume changes or clichés. If I had to guess I’d choose the latter since, by the end of the second act, I felt the need to duck to avoid being nicked by a flying platitude. And those suckers hurt!
But seriously, folks: while Copacabana is supposed to be inspired by the 1978 Manilow hit of the same name, it’s actually a big, glossy valentine to the Technicolor Hollywood musicals of the ‘40s and ‘50s. Like those musicals, the plot devices in Copacabana are ancient and predictable, the characters cardboard, and the setting, costumes, and dance numbers spectacular. Unlike most of them, the score is pretty much devoid of interest. In describing it, the words that come to mind are “pedestrian”, “uninspired” or just plain old “mediocre” -- as in, not bad but not especially good, either. In fact, the only memorable song is the one that inspired the whole business in the first place. And that doesn’t show up in more than fragmentary form until the curtain call.
How could this have happened? Manilow is no slouch at writing sharp, memorable songs, as even a casual glance at his career demonstrates. A clue may be found at the back of the program (which I had plenty of time to read since the show started 20 minutes late), where veteran songwriters and lyricists Bruce Sussman and Jack Feldman are credited as “co-authors” of the “book, music and lyrics” along with Manilow. It looks like composition by committee to me, and may explain why all the songs sound like retreads of better material from the 1940s. This sort of thing can be fun if done in a spirit of pastiche or parody, but Manilow and company seem content to simply imitate.
That doesn’t mean I didn’t find the evening entertaining, only that the entertainment value came despite the material. It comes from Wayne Cilento’s lively and inventive choreography -- danced by a polished and enthusiastic cast -- and from the high-energy performances from the major players. Franc D’Ambrosio and Darcie Roberts are the headliners as Tony and Lola (“She was a showgirl..”), the protagonists of the original song. D’Ambrosio impressed me with his vocal range as the Phantom of the Opera here back in 1993 and did so again this time. In keeping with the movie musical nostalgia, his Tony came across as a reincarnation of Gene Kelly, complete with that blitzkrieg smile, with just a touch of Mandy Patinkin thrown in for good measure. Whatever; it works for the character and helps explain Lola’s sudden infatuation with him, just as Roberts’ canny combination of gawky innocence and incipient sexuality makes Tony’s instant obsession with her believable. Relatively speaking, that is.
There’s also good work from Philip Hernandez as Rico (“He wore a diamond..”), oozing charm from every pore and oiling his way across the dance floor to seduce a rather amazingly naïve Lola. His powerful rendition of “Bolero De Amor” gives the song more than it’s worth. Beth McVey and Dale Radunz have the thankless task of trying to make the comic second-banana roles actually funny, and do a pretty decent job of it despite being hampered by the mostly leaden and witless script.
In fact, nearly all the performance aspects of Copacabana are far classier than the book, lyrics or music. There’s a lot of great talent on that stage; it’s a pity there wasn’t more behind it.
The bottom line is that while I found Copacabana fairly entertaining and never felt the urge to become a carpenter and make a bolt for the door (har, har!), I know I wouldn’t call 314-534-1111 (or visit the Metrotix site) and pay anywhere from $22 to $58 a pop to see it. For considerably less you can rent a DVD of (say) The Pirate or Annie Get Your Gun and enjoy the Technicolor originals in the comfort of you own home.
Now THAT’S entertainment!