Tuesday, July 27, 2004

BusterStronghart@Gmail.com

Pal Hal a hit as he hoofs it in Frank Loesser’s Guy and Dolls.

 
Wearing an outfit louder than a two dollar pistol and made from an old horse blanket, Hal Randleman makes Big Jule come alive once more as he sings, dances, and wise cracks his way to stardom on the boards at old Naples Blackburn Hall, one of the finest semi-pro theaters in the country.

Whether on stage left or stage right, upstage or down stage, in the wings or even off stage during a telephone voice over, Randleman makes himself a bright star in this KO production of a story based on Damon Runyon’s horseplayers and crap shooters in the New York of the 1940’s.

Randelman plays three roles in this production, as one role wasn’t enough to use up the unexpected energy exploding out of this moxie filled thespian. When you see him on stage you would never guess that he is actually past fifty.  His second role is that of Joey Biltmore owner of the Biltmore garage where a floating crap game is to be played providing that Nathan Detroit can raise a thousand dollars for “rent.” Hal’s third role is that of the news dealer, a guy wearing a newsboys’ cap that would make Hattie Carnegie hold her ears and turn over in her grave.

Someone asked Randelman whether he feared the critics and he says to one and all like this:  “They can say anything they want about me, but they should spell my name right.”  

He also made a point of explaining that the subtext of the show actually revolves around his role as the be-capped news dealer; however, this critic didn’t quite comprehend the idea of subtext as I was distracted by several of the chorus girls who couldn’t seem to keep their hands off the cherubic actor.

Randlemann sparkled every time he came onstage, and the grey haired audience, seemingly brought in from the local morgue woke up and spat silver nickels every time he showed up.  

He gets the biggest laughs of the show when he explains that his personal dice have lost their spots but that HE, Big Jule, “remembers where they were,” and that HE will personally gladly tell the players what numbers come up.

At half-time we go out in the hall and I notice many of the grey haired citizens bellying up to the bar and ordering such things as Manhattans and Martinis which is drinks that no honest personages would drink in Mindy’s. I get quite close to the squawkers as I am wanting to hear what they are thinking about the goings on at the stage during the first act. Most of it is good, with the exception of one Dave the Dude who squawks that Pal Hal is wearing his suit, and that he wants his percentage for the loan. 

Big Jule is a man of no convictions, as he explains that he has had had thirty- three arrests but no convictions; and Pal Hal gets it right: loud, aggressive, and very dangerous. Poor Dave the Dude has no chance of making his percentage. Paly Haly is a very tough guy to know and, in fact, it comes to me now that he is a man who you might not want to know. No, Dave the Dude won’t see any money out of his suit.

Come to this show for a great evening, and if Luck Is A Lady you’ll come out humming a tune or two. There might have been some scouts in the audience but if there was scouts they must have come from the Boston Braves because no one on stage got offered any contracts from agents or even guys pretending to be agents as sometimes might happen.

After the show we go to a very nice restaurant which must be owned by Mindy’s grandson. We are seeing many good lookers and most of them must be very poor because they aren’t wearing too many clothes and this is no strip joint. One comes over and right in front of Mrs. Pally Hally runs her hand through his hair which is a very hard trick as everyone knows that Pally Hally has very few hairs to run anyone’s hand through, not even Miss Diamonds Right Up Her Arm who is a dame with little manners and no heart. But this is another story for another time.

While I am eating my meatloaf many persons are coming to Pally Hally and saying things such as Hello, and You are Very Great, and a few even get down on their knees and whisper things in very quiet voices right into Pally Hally’s ear. I figure that I should not say anything, that maybe they owe him some marbles and are explaining why they cannot pay. But Pally Hally takes this with lots of Noble Obliging, and with a certain look and a friendly wave lets them go their way.

I know that this restaurant is owned by Mindy’s grandson because there is no Formica in the joint, but if Mindy himself owned it there would be Formica and plenty of cheesecake too, which is something that these Mr. and Mrs. Park Avenues seem to know nothing about. They stick to Gin in Martini glasses.

 

mek

July 26, 2004