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Monday, November 2,2009

Back to Black

‘Memphis’ reminds us of how blindingly white most Broadway musicals typically are

By Mark Peikert
. . . . . . .
Chad Kimball & Montego Glover in 'Memphis' / Photo by Joan Marcus

Who could have known that the season's most unsettling Broadway experience would be amiable musical Memphis? Never mind the shrill Oleanna or the strained A Steady Rainfor sheer seat fidgeting, try the musical about integration set in the Civil Rights-era South.

Not that anything on stage is subversive or unnerving in any way. In fact, the show (from The Toxic Avenger creators Joe DiPietro and David Bryan) is remarkably successful at being an entertaining piece of fluff. Sure, they toss in some problems for '50s interracial couple Huey (Chad Kimball) and dynamite singer Felicia (Montego Glover), but everything ends as happily as one would expect. The musical preaches tolerance: So scars heal, slights are forgiven and the happy ending is tinged with just enough melancholy to prevent the show from feeling saccharine.

The uncomfortable aspect of Memphis is its liberal, preponderantly white New York audience. No matter how hard one tries, one can't shake the feeling that everyone is patting himself on the back for attending a "black" musical. Instances in the script of the "n-word" resulted in shocked gasps, as if the ticket buyers had personally moved so far into a post-racial America that they no longer recall a time when such language was commonly employed. There's a pervasive feeling of patronization on the dark side of the footlights that never quite dissipates, no matter how much we're drawn into the story.

Of course, that story also features several white characters jumping on board the "colored music" that DJ Huey plays on a Memphis radio station despite everyone else's wishes. It's hard not to feel a twinge of discomfort as the other charactersand welaugh good-naturedly at the white kids bebopping to a music rooted in a blues they can never understand, indicting ourselves as we snicker. Nor are matters helped by the dawning realization of just how many wildly talented, underemployed African-American singers and dancers there are in New York. Gina Gershon is embarrassing herself eight times a week in Bye Bye Birdie, but these singers and dancers have to wait for a period piece about black music? Glover, one of the most exciting performers I've ever seen, lists as her only other Broadway credit The Color Purple, another period piece about the African-American experience.

Still, despite my reservations at the smug tone, the preponderantly white, middle-aged, heterosexual audience has as they tell one another, "I just love this music!" the show deserves to be seen for Glover's performance. Delivering her songs with a startling physicality (her expressive arms are reminiscent of Judy Garland's go-for-broke concert appearances). Glover doesn't just sing the hell out of the show's gorgeous score, she inhabits the role in a way that emphasizes the chasm between the well-heeled audience and the struggling Felicia, a woman who promises herself not to settle for life as a second-class citizen.

Memphis is a fantastic, toe-tapping night at the theater. What a shame that right now, with star power at a higher premium than genuine talent and most musicals featuring just two or three non-white performers in the chorus, enjoying it feels like a political statement.

Open run. Shubert Theatre, 225 W. 44th St. (betw. Broadway & 8th Ave.), 212-239-6200; times vary, $41.50$121.50.

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