Subtitle: 
A Musical Fable Of Broadway
Total Rating: 
***1/2
Opened: 
November 20, 1999
Ended: 
February 13, 2000
Country: 
USA
State: 
Connecticut
City: 
Bridgeport
Company/Producers: 
Richard Hallinan
Theater Type: 
Regional
Theater: 
Downtown Cabaret Theater
Theater Address: 
263 Golden Hill Street
Phone: 
(203) 576-1636
Running Time: 
2 hrs
Genre: 
Musical
Author: 
Music and Lyrics: Frank Loesser; Book: Joe Swerling and Abe Burrows, based on story and characters by Damon Runyon
Director: 
Jamie Rocco
Review: 

 A number of years ago, the Downtown Cabaret in Bridgeport gave a successful, spirited production of this wonderful show, with both music and lyrics by one man, Frank Loesser. Now, Damon Runyon's delightfully down and dirty denizens of Times Square, clothed in a perfect riot of stripes and plaids (courtesy of Dodger Costume Rentals), on a free-form, color-drenched set (designed by J. Branson, heightened by Hugh Hallinan's brilliantly-intricate lighting design have once-again captured the stage of the Cabaret Theater in a joyous extravaganza that rivals the acclaimed Broadway revival.

This musical is a veritable gift, offering an unbelievable score laden with 17 luscious songs that further the plot. Guys And Dolls is sung by a well-chosen company, choreographed sharply by Sharon Halley, and well-directed and musically staged by Jamie Rocco. With a book by Abe Burrows and Joe Swerling, who became Mrs. Frank Loesser, this is as fresh as the day it was written, fifty years ago. Three opening numbers establish the tensions in the plot between good and evil. With help from the Crapshooters, "Fugue for Tinhorns," and "The Oldest Established" ("crap game in New York") is belted out in perfect harmony by Anthony Santelmo, Jr., who as Nicely-Nicely, also does a fine job with that great dream hymn, "Sit Down, Your Rockin' the Boat." He is assisted by Christopher Zelno, showing off an electric tenor voice as Benny Southstreet, Matthew Gasper as Rusty Charlie, and Louis Tuccio as the inveterate gambler, Nathan Detroit, engaged for fourteen years to flu-ridden Adelaide.

"Follow the Fold" introduces Sarah Brown, played by Amanda Serkasevich, and her drum-beating Save-a-Soul Mission Band. Two duets drenched in romance: "I'll Know" ("when my love comes along") and "I've Never Been in Love Before," are crooned by Sarah and the smooth-talking Sky Masterson, played masterfully by Paul DePasquale, whose rough-hewn quality underscores that gambling prayer, "Luck Be A Lady Tonight." The psychological spoof, "Adelaide's Lament," is delivered with excellent comic finesses by sparkling Amy Eschman, resplendently adorable in Jon Jordan's white blond wig. "Take Back Your Mink," is performed by the attractive Hot Box girls, who strip from their mink stoles and deep blue violet gowns to sexy black lace teddies. "If I Were a Bell," is sung with abandon by the otherwise prim Sarah Brown, after having too much to drink in Havana, Cuba. Sarah and Adelaide bring conviction to the amusing "Marry the Man Today." And we can't forget the lively "A Bushel and a Peck" and "Sue Me."

This show possesses one of the most poignant ballads ever written, "More I Cannot Wish You," ("than to wish you find your love") which includes that magical, mysterious line, "with the sheep's eye and the licorice, too!" And, of course, there is the theme song, "Guys And Dolls," which seems to sum up classic feelings of romance spiced with a sense of humor. The only disappointments: too-short Tucci as Nathan Detroit and the screechy high notes of Serkasevich as Sarah. Since they've cleaned up and "Disneyfied" Broadway, this may be the only place you'll see it the way it really was.

Cast: 
Amy Eschman (Adelaide); Paul DePasquale (Sky Masterson); Anthony Anslemo, Jr. (Nicely-Nicely Johnson), Terry Palasz (General Cartwright), etc.
Technical: 
Musical Staging: Jamie Rocco; Musical Dir. Albert Evans; Choreography: Sharon Halley; Scenic Design: J. Branson; Lighting: Hugh Hallinan; Costumes : Dodger Costume Rentals; Sound: Joe Boerst; Wig: Jon Jordan; Prod. Stage Man.: Dyanne M. McNamara
Critic: 
Rosalind Friedman
Date Reviewed: 
November 1999