|
Most disco music is junk, though
it has a softer side with fine melodic shadings—as in the cases of the Bee
Gees or Stevie Wonder—and some of it—Boney M., Patsy Gallant, Donna Summer,
Rod Stewart, KC and the Sunshine Band—can make you want to get up and boogie
too. Certainly, that’s what you will probably want to do at Stage West
during the course of Fever, Howard Pechet’s anthology of disco music,
all gussied up by Samantha Burson’s set design, Kimberly Catton’s costumes
(bell bottoms, lava shirts, platform shoes and all), and some performers who
race through about 70 numbers (or snatches from them) without overstaying
their welcome. There are flaws, of course: Pechet’s ticker-tape history is
simplistic and sparse, some of the performers (especially the women) are
merely singers in outlandish wigs, and their screeching (which is their
general idea of phrasing) is hardly the stuff of good vocalizing. In an age
where necrophilia is taken as an expression of nostalgia (witness the
zillion Elvis and Marilyn wannabes), mimicry is considered to be a high art
even when it is low in accuracy. So, it is the case with the Bee Gee
impersonators—led by grizzled Anthony Mattina, whose falsetto gets falser by
every register—or with the women who often seem like weak tea rather than
red-hot lava, though there are outstanding exceptions in the cases of Sonia
Ndongmo’s Tina Turner or the gals in general when they finally get their
groove in a b Director Anne Allan and Musical
Director Michael Lerner keep things lively, concocting diversions along the
way (such as a good dramatization of Copacabana), tantalizing us with
snatches of hits, and ensuring that each half of the show ends with a big,
sensational number—a delirious parody of the Village People in the first
instance and an Act Two finale that incorporates Donna Summer, Rick Dee,
Abba, and Kool & the Gang, as well as a host of lesser names. Among the
eye-catching performers, are acrobatic M
|