Gobs and Gals Revisited

By T. E. Kalem

Shaw called the theater "a cathedral of the spirit," but no temple would be complete without its money-changers. Some altars seem to be rented out to hustlers of the quick buck. Their business instincts, however, are far from infallible; they frequently seem to mistake an anachronism for a trend. A year ago. No, No, Nanette opened with a box office bang, and the producing fraternity promptly decided that nostalgia was the hottest ticket around. This accounts for the fact that 1944's On The Town is the newest Broadway entry.

Unfortunately, the revival is a dud. To break the news gently to those around 50: the show is unlikely to remind you of the heady days when the nation sent Lucky Strike Green to war. It will prove to you how bald, paunchy and pooped a show can get in 27 years.

To begin with, this musical about gobs on an amorous shore leave never ranked as more than a passing diversion. The book and lyrics by Betty Comden and Adolph Green bear the same resemblance to a great musical comedy that Levittown does to the Taj Mahal. Ron Field, director and coproducer, has enlarged the definition of chutzpah by re-choreographing the Jerome Robbins dance numbers. Leonard Bernstein's music holds up best, and its peppy dissonances and romantic melodic line serve to season the overall inanity. Key Performers Bernadette Peters, Phyllis Newman, Donna McKechnie, Ron Husmann, Jess Richards and Remak Ramsay enact their roles with desperate valiance. So did the ship's band that played Nearer My God to Thee on the maiden voyage of the Titanic.

sbT.E. Kalem

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