Either by association or direct composition, the legendary composer/pianist/entertainer Fats Waller (1904-1943) was famed for "Spreadin' Rhythm Around." 25 years ago, a sizzling, if small-scaled, revue called "Ain't Misbehavin'" proved a winning homage to the great Waller. The show, originally conceived by Richard Maltby, was so red hot, sassy and popular it moved from the Manhattan Theater Club to Broadway, where it stayed for 1,604 performances and its stars (the late) Nell Carter, Andre De Shields, Armelia McQueen, Ken Page and Charlaine Woodard became themselves virtual legends overnight.
If new legends are not likely to be made by the exuberant and appealing company appearing at the Paper Mill, the good news is that the venerable joint is nevertheless jumpin' these nights to the same feverishly joyous repertoire that made audiences stand up and cheer back in 1978. Under the direction of Ken Roberson (also the choreographer), the show showcases a great cast that has been carefully selected for "Lookin' Good but Feelin' Bad." And with a dynamite, seven-piece onstage band featuring William Foster McDaniel at the piano, where said ivories are being tickled "Black and Blue," the show has been newly conceived. It has been primed less for spontaneous combustion than it has for a more low-voltage celebration of one of the great jazz pianists of the last century.
For those with no memory of the original cast, the one at the Paper Mill, that includes E. Faye Butler, Darius de Haas, Doug Eskew, Angela Robinson and Natasha Yvette Williams, will satisfy the most demanding. Roberson expands upon the original idea of a steamroller of a cabaret act (basically non-stop musical numbers) by adding bits of backstage and on-stage business and presumably giving the performers personality conflicts. Considering the lack of intimacy in the Paper Mill, the inference that there is life going on beyond the center spot does add a dimension. But whether that embroidery, call it gilding the "Honeysuckle Rose," deflects from the bountiful satire, the innocent self-mockery, and the audacious attitude inherent in the extensive Waller canon, is something that purists may quibble about. For the most part, the asides and digressions don't necessarily throw the show off kilter so much as they occasionally diminish the impact of the songs being sung.
The show, however, remains a group effort. And this group is giving it their all. Butler, is a feisty bundle of sass and has the Waller canon well in hand, having recently completed runs of Ain't Misbehavin' at Arena Stage, Center Stage and Ogunquit Playhouse. She gets some major and deserved audience approval to her singing "Mean to Me," as well as shared numbers "Honeysuckle Rose" and "I've Got a Feeling I'm Falling."
Williams, a bountiful package of vocal pipes and a commanding presence, has a frisky sensuality that makes the most of "Squeeze Me." But it is Williams' genuinely funny takeoff on the wartime remembered Kate Smith ("When the Nylons Bloom Again") that finds particular favor with many in the audience. This is part of the World War commemorative medley that also features Butler and Robinson and includes such rousers (relics?) as "Cash For Your Trash," "Off Time," and "Yacht Club Swing."
Although de Haas, a fine performer with an endearing appeal, slithers evocatively through the once provocative "The Viper's Song" (also known as "The Reefer's Song"), he can't elevate the number to sound like more than so much gratuitous pandering. De Haas displays his more ingratiating attitude with Eskew in "How Ya Baby" and by inviting audience participation in "Fat and Greasy." His peak is the perky duet with Robinson, "I Can't Give You Anything But Love."
The hefty and debonair Eskew, making his Paper Mill debut, has no trouble making presence account for much of the show's success with "I'm Gonna Sit Right Down And Write Myself a Letter" and the funny "Your Feet's Too Big."
Designer Betsy Adams, who knows just how to embrace Neil Patel's functional set, has beautifully lighted the show. Costumer Paul Tazewell does smartly with the earth tones accented in Act I and dressing the ensemble in formal all-white for Act II. So, if everyone seems a little guilty of amending and underlining twice what was once already written in capitals, the show, with its effusive jitterbuggin,' sashayin' and struttin,' still moves like the wind. One of the biggest gusts comes from Robinson's dynamically sung "Keepin' Out of Mischief Now." The extended finale consisting of a medley of songs recorded, but not composed, by Waller still packs a wallop, as does the swinging band and its pianist/musical director William Foster McDaniel.
