Chazz Palminteri received a warm welcome in Wisconsin when he arrived with his one-man, semi-autobiographical show, A Bronx Tale. It's safe to say most audience members had NO idea of who the performer was, nor had they ever visited the Bronx. They probably didn't spend their childhoods running up and down a fire escape ladder, either. And the Mob didn't control the community. But that didn't stop Milwaukeeans from marveling at Palminteri's wonderful storytelling.
On a semi-bare stage, with only a street lamp and fragments of storefronts for company, Palminteri creates another world. It is the 1940s, and Palminteri begins his tale as a nine-year-old boy. We are observers to what Palminteri sees from the front stoop of his "home," which consists of a small flat located five flights above a drugstore. Each of Palminteri's characters is so sharply detailed that he is able to switch effortlessly among them without confusing the audience. As Palminteri tells it, his childhood was populated by a bunch of "characters." Oddly, we don't hear a lot about his parents. The mother is only a passing reference basically, she spends her time making spaghetti sauce in the kitchen and having coffee klatches with other neighbor ladies in her parlor. Palminteri's father, though, is a more influential character in his son's life.
Of the "characters" in Palminteri's life, the one who receives the most attention is Sunny, the neighborhood Mafia leader who takes Palminteri under his wing. As Palminteri tells it, he learns street smarts from Sunny and traditional education from school. His father, a bus driver, is not happy about the fact is his son is spending time with such a dangerous character. But even he realizes that, in terms of survival, it's better to be Sunny's friend than his enemy. Both Sunny and the father agree on one piece of advice: don't waste your life. In their own ways, both men are speaking from experience. Jerry Zaks' splendid direction keeps the story focused on key episodes of Palminteri's growing up years.
Overall, Palminteri enchants us with his "gee whiz" attitude, which is both funny and endearing. He soaks up his experiences like a sponge, not letting any detail escape his attention. The tale's ending proves Sunny wrong; people "really do care." It's a reminder that Milwaukeeans probably don't need to hear. Unlike the tough streets of the Bronx, the Midwest is a far less cutthroat environment. But that didn't stop audiences from appreciating the skill that Palminteri brings to his marvelous story.
