Memo to lead guys: (Lead Dolls exempt): Siddown, Siddown, Siddown, Siddown, Siddown, you're rockin' the boat!
Within Frank Loesser's legendary lyrics lurk the lemons in an otherwise jackpot Guys & Dolls: Sky's not the limit, nor is Nathan enough of a hot dog.
As in Sky Masterston and Nathan Detroit, lowlife lead gamblers in Jade Productions' mounting of the cherished Damon Runyon-inspired musical at Spring Mountain Ranch.
Not even this pearl of American musical theater is performer-proof.
Still, it's good to be back in Runyon's fantasy Gotham, with its shiny streets and candy-cane skyline. And no crackheads or streetwalkers—the worst thugs are a motley crew of harmless gamblers with awful fashion sense that would embarrass a test pattern, and a penchant for speaking hilariously formal, contraction-free English 'cause dey do not wanna seem, ya know, un-cultcha-ed.
The chestnut of a plot: Nathan Detroit (Garry Leigh Douglas), engaged for 14—that's ONE-FOUR—years to frustrated cabaret cutie Miss Adelaide (Joy Demain), needs dough to bankroll his floating crap game. The brainstorm: Bet smooth-dude Sky Masterston (Michael Brown), a master of the gambling arts (he once wagered on which sugar cube a fly would land upon) that the guy could not take "a certain doll"—buttoned-up missionary Sister Sarah (Kelly Ward-Radan)—to Havana for some Cubano canoodlin'.
Romance rolls a seven in the end, but the real action's in the game, with Runyon's huggable hooligans hollering Loesser's iconic score: "Fugue for Tinhorns," "Luck Be a Lady," "I've Never Been in Love Before," "Sit Down, You're Rockin' the Boat," "The Oldest Established Permanent Floating Crap Game in New York" and the title tune among them.
Unfortunately, the band's jarring synthesizer embellishments lend some songs a garish, carnival-esque dimension. And several singers seem to be singing in uncomfortable keys.
Even flawed, Guys & Dolls remains a lovable piece of stagecraft, and its most adorable asset here is not one of the guys, but alpha doll (and Jade president) Joy Demain as Miss Adelaide, the Hot Box headliner with the chronic cold from prolonged exposure to singlehood.
In a portrayal straight out of Hambone Central, she's obviously replicating Vivian Blaine's bravura, adenoidal Adelaide—a Brooklynese Betty Boop right down to signature song "Adelaide's Lament (A Person Could Develop a Cold)," reading about where "the streptococci loik" and upbraiding Nathan in "Sue Me." But while Blaine's is the role's definitive interpretation, Demain's a comical powerhouse all her own.
With a voice as innocent as a newborn's tuchus, Ward-Radan's Sarah, confronted with Sky's aggressive advances, glides gracefully from offended prude to drunk with love on the joyous "If I Were a Bell." But in a production that's annoyingly overmiked—even for this outdoor venue—her pipes can be the most ear-piercing.
Still, when the dolls pair up for "Marry the Man Today," they sizzle the stage.
However, their opposite numbers hold this G&D back from the full-tilt fun it ought to be from overture to curtain call. As Nathan, Douglas flattens out nearly every punch line he's assigned—and there are many—in a ramrod-stiff performance that makes one wonder why Adelaide's so cuckoo to corner this marriage-dodger.
And Brown's Sky, while likable, never raises a hint of this smoothie's dangerous appeal. He's an overgrown Opie in slick threads.
Among the supporting bettors, Robert Blomgren's Big Jule from Chicago is a gravel-throated hoot, evoking the humorous menace of the 1955 movie's BS Pulley ("That's a right broad!"); Jon Paul Raniola's consummate comic timing, tucked inside an electric-blue sport coat and beneath a blinding-orange hat, makes Harry the Horse a Technicolor treat; Lamont Russell, his smile big enough to light the Strip in a power outage, sends infectious cheer coursing through Benny Southstreet; and Brian Gressley's Nicely-Nicely Johnson does repentant sinners proud ("Hallelujah!") in the exhilarating, evangelically-powered "Sit Down, You're Rockin' the Boat."
Jim Carey directs with the buoyancy the material craves, and the sets are effectively simple, notably the sewer-set crap game's muted tones and shadow lighting for "Luck Be a Lady." The costumes—a fashionista's nightmare of clashing pinstripes and checkered patterns splashed onto bold primary colors—are G&D-perfect. And the dazzling choreography, especially amid the hot Cuban rhythms of the Havana scenes, is nearly a physical turn-on.
But for all its exuberant trappings, this is a show betting on skewed odds: At the lead level, Guys & Dolls is more Dolls than Guys.