Hard to believe Broadway debuted as a fresh backstage story of a song and dance man hoping to become a star along with gaining a partner for his act and in marriage. She's the fresh young thing, so familiar in gangster movies, who has also attracted mobster boss Steve Crandal. They've since been seen in dozens of Prohibition-era backstage and gangster plays and movies, featuring more or less important music and comedy.
So right off we can guess everything that's going to happen once Crandal murders rival, Scar and the dance partners unwittingly witness the body being dragged to wetdock. It's the performers we come to see, hopefully interestingly dressed, and Asolo's production doesn't let us down. David Breitbarth is a winning star wannabe, though it's not easy to reconcile his sweaty comic with the lover so attractive to Aubrey Caldwell's sweet, confused Billie. Especially with slick Patrick James Clarke brandishing a diamond bracelet and Billie's fellow showgirls encouraging or envying her re Crandal. There's even an oblique but burlesque parallel set of lovers who end up married on a drunk: Barbara Redford's aging chanteuse, who's seen it all and is sarcastic about all she's seen, with her admiring Porky, who talks like Brando's Don Corleone and gets willies whenever smart-tongued (and just plain smart) detective Dan McCorn noses around.
The funniest schtick is watching Breitbarth directing the showgirls and their rapid changes of overdone (but perfect for this play) costumes. He can be a hobo --with the flick of a beard becoming Uncle Sam or with a few slides convince he's capable of imitating Astaire.
But, like the dialogue, most of the production is phony, not classic but caricature. For instance, there's the set, where "Paradise Club" is signed over the swinging doors through which the performers supposedly enter the stage of the night spot. They do so from a room set up with tables, as if it were part of the club, though it functions not only as a backstage with a spot for costumes for quick changes but also as a walk-through for various gang types, a rehearsal stage, and a kind of green room where performers eat, drink, meet, converse. Stairs seem to lead to upstairs dressing rooms, and there's a wall phone on the landing so everyone below can hear the conversations.
All in all, a really set-up set. At one point, a gang comes in from Chicago for an after-show party and gets whisked off to an alcove where, we presume, they get the drink we tired observers of this drawn-out affair deserve.
