Sunday, May 7, 2000

'Plaid' weaves light fun into dark tale

By MORRIS SULLIVAN
NEWS-JOURNAL CORRESPONDENT

DAYTONA BEACH — Once upon a time, male pop singers harmonized with each other. That may be hard to imagine, now that much of recorded popular music is more often chanted or grunted than sung, and background harmonies are likely to be computer- generated, but groups of young men (and women) used to laboriously rehearse intricate harmonies on street corners and in basements.

"Forever Plaid" is an example of the breed of musical revue ala Swingtime Canteen" and "Ain't Misbehavin" that strives to preserve a disappearing musical genre by stringing together some of its best examples, then setting them within their cultural context. Seaside Music Theater opened a rousing version of the revue Friday night.

If you're starved for a show with rich content, one that's full of surprises and that will make you think deep thoughts about life, you'll have to look elsewhere. There's not much plot here to get in the way of the music, and what little story there is, serves mainly as a framework upon which to hang jokes and gags. "Forever Plaid" is pure fluff; however, it's extremely well-executed fluff.

The story can easily be distilled into a half-page of program notes: four young men meet in their high school visual aid department and become united through their love of four-part harmony (and by, one might imagine, the nerdy-ness that alienates each from the rest of the student body). They gradually rehearse their way toward the "big time," dreaming of appearing on the Ed Sullivan Show.

On their way to their first big gig, their convertible is broadsided by a bus carrying a load of teen-age girls from a parochial school to see The Beatles first American television appearance. The girls survive, but all four Plaids are killed instantly. They now return to Earth for one last performance and to taste the stardom that death denied them.

"Forever Plaid" begins there: The backdrop against which the simple stage is set becomes a sky filled with stars and the four young men enter the room, coming up the aisles with candles, singing a somber, ethereal chant that ends, hilariously, in a 50s musical cliche. From that point, the characters unfold through their choice of songs, through their stylized performances and choreography and through the patter between numbers.

Each character has an idiosyncrasy that becomes a running gag. One has nosebleeds, another is prone to asthma attacks, yet another is a little klutzy and has difficulty remembering right from left. It's easy to imagine that these flaws turned these boys into easy targets for cruel jokes at school. However, to the audience, these affectations become endearing and allow us to laugh at them without feeling cruel. Besides, it's hard not to love characters who sing so well.

Each of the cast has a voice perfectly suited to the task of re-creating songs like "Catch a Falling Star" and "Moments to Remember." Director/choreographer Mark Harborth adds simple staging and clever choreography to the stellar vocal performances, transforming each song or set into a visually entertaining sketch. For example, a calypso sequence becomes hilariously pseudo-Jamaican, replete with glowing bananas and an audience-participation segment. "Lady of Spain" is accompanied by an energetic three-minute rendition of the "Ed Sullivan Show," complete with juggling and Topo Gigio, the puppet mouse that appeared on the show.

Likewise, each member of the cast interprets his character with sensitivity and wit. Daniel Cilli's Sparky comes closest to being street-hip, although his vision of hipness" ends with Perry Como. Rob Cygan plays Jinx with a delightfully childish quality. As Frankie, Tony Purvis distinguishes himself as the unofficial leader of the pack, but with an underlying nebbishness. As the "deep voice" of the group, Craig Thom Cook makes Smudge the "deepest" of the characters without forgetting to make him funny.

As one character quotes from a newspaper item about the Plaids, This group's sound is to contemporary music as Formica is to marble." However, the cast and their songs prove that Formica can be fun. The music is the machine that moves "Forever Plaid" forward, and the cast makes the most of songs like "Day O" and "Papa Loves Mambo." There are even some "Stomp"-like elements, when beer bottles, spoons and toilet plungers add percussion to "Sixteen Tons" and "Crazy 'Bout Ya Baby."

In the moments before the finale, the characters finally face return ing to the void and are forced to confront the existential realities of their tragically truncated lives. It's a quiet moment, full of anger and disappointment, when each realizes that their untimely end deprived them of not only the immortality they sought in stardom, but of the experiences that they had only enjoyed vicariously through songs.

Finally, Frankie points out that most people spend their lives seeking those brief episodes when all of creation seems to come together in one "perfect moment," and that with their harmonies, The Plaids had experienced more than their fair share of those perfect moments.

He coaxes the group into the finale, a performance of the song they had been rehearsing in their car during their final seconds of life, "Love is a Many Splendored Thing." The rendition is filled with a series of beautiful, elaborate chords that appropriately demonstrate those "perfect moments." And as Frankie said about life, Who has a right to expect more than that?"

Playbill

What: "Forever Plaid," by Stuart Ross.

When: Through Aug. 13. 7:30 p.m. Thursdays May 11-25, June 8-29, July 6-27, Aug. 3 and Aug. 10. Also 2 p.m. Sundays through Aug. 13. Other play dates at 7:30 p.m. are May 20, 26; June 1, 3, 16, 17, 23, 30; July 1, 7, 8, 21, 28, 29; and Aug. 4 and 5.

Where: SMT Downtown, 176 N. Beach St., Daytona Beach.

Tickets: $20 - $22, available by calling the SMT box office at (904) 252-6200 or (800) 854-5592.