FUN & DRAMATIC: A MATTER OF LAUGH AND BETH

With her fans bursting into fond applause as she entered, sang, joked, or mentioned in passing a couple of shows on The Great White Way in which she’d made a great big splash, it’s no wonder that Beth Leavel treated her 54 Below attendees like old friends — to borrow half the title of her most recent Broadway credit, Stephen Sondheim’s Old Friends. And she was there to “borrow” a full set’s worth of that songwriter’s catalogue, mostly the material she did at the venue when she performed a program called (what else?) Beth Leavel Sings Sondheim last October. She kidded and kibbitzed and cozily confided concerns, and grinned as she told tales, the way one does with old friends. Directly addressing the patrons, she asked how many had seen her in The Prom, asked what Sondheim material they’d want to hear her do on a recording, and asked if a customer at a ringside table would let her have the rest of that dessert that looked so delicious. And she took the plate in her hands, but before a sweet menu item was therein, she had the audience eating out of the palm of her hand.

The nightclub is her playground and personal amusement park with the songs there to be her rides and roller coasters. Winking, cavorting, rolling her eyes and metaphorically rolling up her sleeves to dig right into the varied material with relish, she was poised for action. The wacky and arch qualities are delightful, but become repetitive after a while (a longish while, admittedly) and might be dialed back a few degrees. During songs that don’t need “help” or telegraphing emotions, there are some distracting facial expressions and gestures, commenting on and reacting to a lyric, so she seems to be at a distance, outside it —  instead of wrapped up inside it. The business of calling on audience members to name Sondheim numbers they’d like her to consider for her album, and offering to sing a bit of them on the spot, went on far too long, and in many instances just resulted in her admitting she didn’t know the piece or what show it is from.

Beth Leavel may win points as a sassy gal and clown who can send up a song, but her “Send in the Clowns” was serious and sympathetic, without taking the overly restrained, restive route. Devoid of schtick, a dramatic tear into the Gypsy go-for-the-jugular juggernaut, “Rose’s Turn,” turns out to be the act’s crowning achievement, saving the best for last.

Her well-known knack for being irreverent and LOL funny was immediately on display. Right off the bat, the brash and bombastic Beth was bantering with pianist/music director Phil Reno, feigning (one assumes) surprise that, for her entrance music, he played a non-Sondheim melody. (It was her big number, “As We Stumble Along,” from The Drowsy Chaperone, in which she’d played the title role.) The cheerful pianist and his colleagues, all quite skillful and sharing the comfort zone – bassist Michael Kuennen, and drummer Perry Cavari – didn’t stumble along, but rather smiled along through the set. They, too, are old friends, professional pals who were in the Broadway orchestra during her time in that 2018-2019 production and Elf before that, as well as previous 54 Below trips with the irrepressible lady.

But there was a running bit concerning the possibility of “stumbling” when it comes to the daunting fast-paced Sondheim material with lots and lots of words. Before the first number, she makes some opening remarks, including the tale that she reportedly retorted “Hell no!!!” when Mr. Reno suggested she learn and include the speedy “Another Hundred People.” Chuckles came from the sympathetic and Sondheim-savvy and very full audience at the August 1 performance during the run. (The club handles more than another hundred people at each performance). Concerning the songs she did agree to sing, as she gets ready to start the opening number, she cutely replies to the pianist’s question: “Do you think you’ll remember all the words?” by singing her answer — which just happens to be the first line of the lyric:  “Could be—who knows?” And we’re off and running with the energetic “Something’s Coming” from West Side Story, with the driving Leonard Bernstein melody.

Of course, there were several comments about being in the company of Stephen Sondheim’s Old Friends, fresh in the performer’s mind, as it had just closed a few weeks earlier. Again addressing the possibility of messing up lyrics, she self-deprecatingly stated that she got tripped up the previous night on a line that had been her solo in a group song she had been doing eight times a week during the revue’s 109 performances. She stated that it was her only error. She was a little less lucky on August 1, but took it in stride, grimacing when she caught herself resorting to the repetition of a few words she’d just sung instead of the ones that should have followed. That was in the tricky and very, very long lyric of “I’m Still Here,” one of four selections from the score of Follies. It’s the anthem of survival for a show biz veteran and Beth Leavel brought grit and guts to it. She infused some of the same qualities to the score’s brighter look at an entertainer’s struggles, “Broadway Baby.” The musical’s other samplings were a vulnerable and wounded “Losing My Mind” and a tough, seething “Could I Leave You?” which she’d also delivered powerfully in the recent benefit concert of songs from this musical.

At one point, the lovably loquacious Leavel acknowledged (in her way) that she’s not one to be dutifully, doggedly devoted to delivering the most pristine, precise treatment of a melody line than purists prefer and prize. She revealed that once, at a rehearsal, the powers that be who were providing feedback, gave her the note that it would be nice if she’d sometimes sing the notes “as written.” She sings with personality galore and takes liberties to ACT the song, investing it with her own sly, knowing persona or the specific attitudes of the character as she envisions it. There may be risk, rue, or rage.

This is a real pro who knows how to entertain and engage (and gauge) an audience, and not take herself tooooo seriously, this theatre veteran with vim and an impish spirit – who can also turn on a dime and turn on the drama. And since, on the night attended, she exited the stage with that dessert, we can say that Beth Leavel, in more ways than one, really “takes the cake.”