In-tune singers in an off-key show.
That's the so-so summation of Sin City Serenade, Las Vegas Little Theatre's long-in–the-works, original revue celebrating the city's 100th birthday, bolstered by a Centennial grant.
A handful of intrepid performers struggle mightily to pump energy into an enervated concept that purports to sweep us along on a musical and spoken-word journey through this city's history, but is only incidentally Sin City-centric.
Anita Garland, Mark Langberg, Bruce Moore, Timm Starr, Kellie Wright and Rebecca Zisch—guided by director-choreographer Terrance McKerrs and backed by an onstage band on Ron Zastrow's night-clubby set—form a formidable sextet of singers. Either solo, in mix-and-match combos or as a chorus, they belt out a century of pop hits, from "Alexander's Ragtime Band" through "The Lady Is a Tramp" and onto "We Will Rock You," pausing infrequently to narrate a so-called historical road trip, from dusty Western roots to neon super-city.
Though mostly chronological, several curious musical flashbacks and fast-forwards toss the show's balance back on its heels. (Sinatra fave "Luck Be a Lady" and Elvis signature "Viva Las Vegas"? Fine. But sandwiching Al Jolson's "Rockabye Your Rockabye Baby"?) Any Vegas historical tidbits are so spotty and random—disappearing for long song stretches, then reinserted unexpectedly—that Serenade largely loses the sense of what it's celebrating.
Yes, the hits on parade are often by artists uber-familiar to Vegas showrooms—"It's Not Unusual," "Come Fly With Me," "All Shook Up," "Put Your Head On My Shoulder," "This Could Be the Start of Something Big," "My Heart Will Go On," "Crocodile Rock"—but so what? All chart-toppers, they're as instantly hummable in a Boston bar as a Bellagio lounge.
As for "Brother, Can You Spare a Dime," "The Varsity Drag" and "Won't You Come Home, Bill Bailey," they paint vivid period pictures of a nation, but not, particularly, of a city.
With little narrative glue or spoken interludes, Sin City Serenade lacks a through-line and is saddled by a sense of sameness. Though a revue is, by definition, highlighted by brief musical numbers (often spiced with skits), this Serenade was constructed as a nearly unbroken medley, with few diversionary moments that would lend variety, or much diversity in staging to help distinguish the tunes before they rapidly topple over one another.
One singer appears, another disappears, another appears, another disappears ... The result is less a revue than a retro party mix-tape, leaving little to recommend this over a night cuddling with your CD collection—except the performers.
All the energy in the theater centralizes around Kellie Wright whenever she's onstage, her powerful presence a match to her bountiful vocal gifts. She's got her finger on our goose-bump button in her sexy, stirring renditions of "Fever," "Maybe This Time," "Embraceable You" and "Don't Rain On My Parade." Wright was rightly assigned the showstoppers. Bruce Moore—tall, lanky and immensely likable—reveals a palpable joy of performing, and it's contagious, particularly on "I Am What I Am," "Luck Be a Lady" and "Crocodile Rock."
Local veteran Anita Garland wraps her impressive pipes, engaging enthusiasm and exaggerated adenoidal stylings around "Jeepers Creepers" and "Some Stuff Like That There," and lends a Celine sheen to "My Heart Will Go On."
Though Timm Starr's command of his pleasant voice fails to achieve the vocal ease and power of his castmates, his five-mile-wide grin and thrilled-to-be-here vibe weave a spell all his own. And pixie-pie Rebecca Zisch is an on-stage sparkler, embracing her tunes—"It's My Party," "Bill Bailey," "That Ol' Black Magic"—in a giant bear hug. Only Mark Langberg sometimes seems wan and in danger of fading into the background, though he rises to the challenges of "I Write the Songs" and "Put Your Head On My Shoulder."
Collectively, they go heavy on the serenade in a Sin City Serenade light on Sin City.