Body and Solo Sweet Charity

By WILLIAM A. HENRY III

Broadway's search for a new hit musical has sent it lurching mostly into the past. Of this season's first ten efforts, two derived from old movies, two reworked old novels, four rehashed old stage or cabaret shows, and six relied entirely on recycled songs. Last week the main stem reached back 20 years to revive Sweet Charity, a loud, sentimental farce about a taxi dancer who gives herself body and soul, but especially body, to any man who hints of love. In 1966, Sweet Charity garnered just one Tony Award, for Bob Fosse's explosive choreography, yet it ran 18 months on the strength of its likability and slickness. Those are still the show's virtues, and when coupled with a tireless effort by TV Star Debbie Allen (Fame) in the title role originated by Gwen Verdon, they seem to be enough for another long run. The opening won nearly unanimous praise, and by the weekend the box office had tallied a $1 million advance sale.

Nonetheless, Sweet Charity is no masterpiece. Neil Simon's book is more often predictable than funny, and the second act neither coheres nor makes much sense. Dorothy Fields' lyrics are much too witty to come from the dim characters. Cy Coleman's so-so score provides two rousing standards, which evoke Fosse's cleverest numbers: the sullenly sexy ensemble come-on in Big Spender, and Allen's sprightly, sprawling solo to If My Friends Could See Me Now. Although Allen belts out the songs and adapts capably to Fosse's jagged, staccato movements, she utterly lacks Charity's doormat vulnerability. Unless she has that quality, '80s audiences may find it hard to believe in, let alone respect, a woman so ready to let men push her around. -- W.A.H. III