Late in the second act of "Damn Yankees, " the Devil, otherwise known as Applegate, and Lola, his chief henchwoman in damnation, are picking their way across the stage, blanketed in fog. Where are we? she asks. Pointing a flashlight at the audience and peering out into the darkness, he says, "Look, this is limbo." How right he is. Musical-comedy limbo.
In the revival that opened last night at the Marquis Theater, "Damn Yankees, " a big hit once upon a time, now comes off as a period piece that can't quite transcend its period, the mid-1950's. It was never exactly a classic musical, just a loud and flashy one. But among its sure-fire assets, the original 1955 production could count Gwen Verdon's seductively impertinent performance as Lola, a generous serving of Bob Fosse's swivel-jointed choreography and a roisterous anthem called "Heart."
This revival, which began at the Old Globe Theater in San Diego, has "Heart" and special effects.
While it can also claim Victor Garber, in a number of increasingly red outfits as Applegate, and Bebe Neuwirth, in varying states of undress as Lola, the two stars do little to advance the cause of naughty razzle-dazzle, which gave the show its fizz, for the Eisenhower years at least. A far more adroit actor than he is allowed to be here, Mr. Garber has been encouraged to go for the apoplectic grimaces and smoldering burns that used to be Paul Lynde's stock in trade. It's overkill most of the way. In "Those Were the Good Old Days," a vintage soft-shoe number, he could be wearing combat boots.
A short blond wig capping her waifish face, Ms. Neuwirth is unrecognizable from her appearances on "Cheers." Her legs are astonishingly long, and she kicks them exceedingly high. She's not a very witty temptress, however, and there's too much of the sweaty aerobics class about Rob Marshall's choreography to make her appear an effortless one. That pretty much dooms "Whatever Lola Wants (Lola Gets)," a show-stopper that in Ms. Neuwirth's thin and somewhat chilly performance simply registers as hard work.
A sporting twist on the "Faust" legend, "Damn Yankees" tells how middle-aged Joe Boyd, a perpetually frustrated fan of the Washington Senators, makes a pact with Applegate and is transformed into Joe Hardy, the 22-year-old slugger who will finally lead his team to victory over the juggernaut that is (or was) the New York Yankees. The book by George Abbott and Douglass Wallop has been revised, if not exactly overhauled, by Jack O'Brien, also the musical's director. Several of the songs by Richard Adler and Jerry Ross have been shuffled around. A joke about the great lovers of history concludes with "J. Edgar Hoover and Clyde Tolson," certainly an unthinkable punch line in 1955. The most quixotic change, however, has to do with the 11 o'clock spot, "Two Lost Souls," the blaring, bluesy duet originally sung by Joe and Lola when it looked as if Applegate had gotten the better of them both. Presumably so the stars can share a big number side by side, the song has been reassigned to Lola and Applegate. It doesn't make a whole lot of sense, though, for the Devil to view himself as one of those poor lost souls, or for Lola, who has been trying to break free of him for much of Act II, to join her strutting step to his. The plot has reached a critical juncture, and suddenly they're behaving as if they were the best of pals and vaudevillians.
If this paid off in pure pizazz -- the only justification for bringing back "Damn Yankees" in the first place -- you could accept the assault on logic. But the choreography at this point comes precariously close to energetic walking, and worse, Mr. Garber and Ms. Neuwirth fail to combust in each other's presence.
Since they exercise a diminishing claim on an audience's attention, the focus passes easily to the supporting cast. Here, "Damn Yankees" is on sounder footing. Linda Stephens, a devastating stroke victim last season in the musical "Wings," has innate warmth as Meg, the wife Joe leaves behind for the ballpark. When Dennis Kelly, the older Joe, yearns wistfully for his bygone vigor, you can clearly see the barefoot boy in the paunchy man, while the lantern-jawed Jarrod Emick has no trouble portraying the youthful All-American Joe who lands on the Wheaties box. Even though he has a voice that could silence an umpire, Mr. Emick doesn't let strength overpower the traces of his middle-aged self, who continues to pine sweetly for his spouse.
The show's view of marriage -- wife waiting patiently at home while husband runs off to satisfy one last post-adolescent itch -- is as much of the 50's as the pink and pale green kitchen where Meg spends the empty hours washing dishes. The domestic drama represents the sappier side of "Damn Yankees. " Nonetheless, the performers enter into it with such heartfelt simplicity that songs like "A Man Doesn't Know" and "Near to You" take on real poignance, suggesting that there actually may be some people there on the stage. In the locker room and on the baseball diamond the characters promptly revert to types. But if the Senators are the usual joke-cracking, gum-chewing crew, they step up to "Heart," still the evening's best number, and belt it into the bleachers.
Although there's a generally low-tech look to things, the sets, designed by Douglas W. Schmidt with a cartoonists's love for bold shapes and primary colors, and the gaudy costumes by David C. Woolard serve as reminders that the 1950's was not always an era of good taste. The locker room features functioning showers. (Predictably, one of the players is caught with his towel down by a female sportswriter chasing a scoop.) What comes out of the shower heads is not water, though, but a kind of dry-ice mist that brings to mind far more sinister shower rooms of the past.
The overall rambunctiousness of the production is Mr. O'Brien's attempt, I assume, to duplicate the snappy pace and crackling wit favored by Mr. Abbott, the original director of "Damn Yankees. " At 106, the veteran showman is said to have helped out on this revival. He can't be too happy with the results. Speed, in this instance, seems a diversionary tactic.
One of the evening's running gags has it that every time Applegate becomes agitated, his fingertips turn to matchsticks and he inadvertently starts minor conflagrations. Technology allows this effect. It permits onstage fireworks. It also makes possible the great balls of fire whooshing up out of the floorboards just as Mr. Garber and Ms. Neuwirth are reaching the climax of "Two Lost Souls."
When the performers fail to ignite the stage, I guess the technicians have to do it for them.
Damn Yankees
Book by George Abbott and Douglass Wallop, based on Mr. Wallop's novel "The Year the Yankees Lost the Pennant"; words and music by Richard Adler and Jerry Ross; directed by Jack O'Brien; choreography by Rob Marshall; vocal arrangements and musical supervision by James Raitt; sets by Douglas W. Schmidt; costumes by David C. Woolard; lighting by David F. Segal; sound by Jonathan Deans; special effects by Gregory Meeh; hair and make-up by J. Roy Helland; orchestrations by Douglas Besterman; dance arrangements by Tom Fay; additional dance arrangements by David Krane; musical coordinator, William Meade; production stage manager, Douglas Pagliotti; production supervisor, Alan Hall; assistant director, Will Roberson; assistant choreographer, Kathleen Marshall. Presented by Mitchell Maxwell, Polygram Diversified Entertainment, Dan Markley, Kevin McCollum, Victoria Maxwell, Fred H. Krones, Andrea Nasher, The Frankel/Viertel/Baruch Group, Paula Heil Fisher and Julie Ross, in association with Jon B. Platt, Alan J. Schuster and Peter Breger. At the Marquis Theater, 1535 Broadway at 45th Street.
Meg Boyd . . . Linda Stephens Joe Boyd . . . Dennis Kelly Sister . . . Susan Mansur Gloria Thorpe . . . Vicki Lewis Applegate . . . Victor Garber Joe Hardy . . . Jarrod Emick Lola . . . Bebe Neuwirth Rocky . . . Scott Wise Smokey . . . Jeff Blumenkrantz Sohovik . . . Gregory Jbara Van Buren . . . Dick Latessa Welch . . . Terrence P. Currier With: Michael Winther and John Ganum Photos: Co-conspirators: Bebe Neuwirth and Victor Garber. (pg. C1); The Broadway team: From left, Scott Wise, Jeff Blumenkrantz, Gregory Jbara, Jarrod Emick, Michael Winther and John Ganun. (Carol Rosegg/Martha Swope)
