Cabaret Review by Myra Chanin . . .
When I consider all the things in my life I’m thankful for, Ricky Ritzel is always high on my list. He’s musically and comedically gifted, has an uncanny recall of Broadway trivia and, even better, salacious gossip, has won the respect of the high and mighty them that bestow awards. For five years in a row, Ricky Ritzel’s Broadway won the MAC Award for Continuing Series and would have enjoyed an even longer winning streak, had his heart of gold not told him to withdraw his entry to give younger, aspiring performers the chance to upgrade their resumes. Also, from time to time Ricky is vexed by an excess of avoirdupois, which means that running for anything is not his favorite pastime, namely sipping martinis and greeting his fans in the entry courtyard after the show.
The original formula for Ricky Ritzel’s Broadway highlighted gossip, trivia, memorable songs, and original posters from three Broadway past musicals—one hit, one flop, and one that received mixed reviews, a phrase that Algonquin wit cum drama critic, playwright, and womanizer George S. Kaufman believed to mean “Good and Rotten” in vernacular English. Ricky’s current Broadway is presented only twice a year, quite often in October and November. It consists of whatever the traffic will allow, performed by at least eight members of The More Than Ready for Prime Time Players who cavort away to the delight of the increasing number of repeat fans who pack Don’t Tell Mama’s big showroom and cheer the performers on.
How long has this madness been going on? Since 2014! Ricky Ritzel’s Broadway has survived AIDS, Ebola, and Covid, and hopefully will survive an even greater health scourge like the future overseer of the Department of Health and Human Services (sigh) . . . but back to pleasanter thoughts. Ricky Ritzel’s Broadway is still being performed in Don’t Tell Mama’s most lavish showroom, and I have not let moving to California deny me the pleasure of returning to enjoy Ricky’s musical magic whenever I can. I now board the iron bird and, a scant seven hours later, will be tapping my toes to the songs sung by the sensational folks on the dais. But something has changed. Ricky’s new format honors the stars what’s managed to wiggle their way into lasting, memorable One Man Shows in Broadway theaters, by filling all the seats time after time.
Ricky’s most recent performance was significant to me because sitting with my extended family were their out-of-town young’uns, one from Boston via California and one from Poughkeepsie via Brooklyn, both finally old enough to legally imbibe. They are not familiar with the melodic songs or clever lyrics the elders in our group take for granted, but they were so enraptured by the performers and the material Ricky selected they sang along like they’d been hearing them since they were born.
Who were the superstars that Ricky honored and how were they honored? Not by failed imitations, but by respectfully having the songs associated with each one sung by an equally significant Cabaret luminary in his or her own way.
Lennie Watts opened the show with a bang with Barry Manilow’s “Daybreak,” before reminding us how Manilow ends each performance. He selects an adoring widow waving an “I Love You, Barry” sign and serenades her with his closing number. But, in as much as there were scant adoring widows in this crowd, none of them were waving “I Love you Barry” signs—so Lennie invited us all to sing along with him. And we did, smiling all the way.
Sidney Myer paid homage to Marlene Dietrich—whom he’d seen in the flesh when she was alive and kicking and he was a wee laddie—with “My Blue Heaven,” the song she said enticed her to come to America; and the rowdy “See What the Boys in the Backroom Will Have,” from her 1939 film, Destry Rides Again, with Frank Loesser lyrics to a melody composed by Frederick Hollander, the London born, German-Jewish composer whose “Falling in Love Again,” made Dietrich a star.
If you’ve never heard of Flanders & Swann, you’re not alone—neither had most of the audience. They were an amusing British duo who wrote their own music and clever lyrics to musical revues. Their “Ill Wind,” belted out by Aaron Morishita, was written about an obsessive compulsion to play the French horn “in spite of the neighbors who begged me to stop.”
Ricky Ritzel honored The Divine Bette Midler with “Friends,” one of the few songs not written for her but often played for her by Barry Manilow. Tanya Moberly extended the friendship theme with impish dancing and by singing a Shirley MacLaine favorite, “If My Friends Could See Me Now.” Bruce Springsteen was also “born to run” on Broadway, per its dynamic delivery handled by Lisa Viggiano; and a dazzling Anna Anderson in a sparkly gold dress venerated Lena Horne‘s heavenly “Stormy Weather.”
Debbie Zecher sang, stepped, and stopped the show with Liza Minnelli’s “Ring Them Bells!” Mary Ellen Ryan became a subtle Elvis Costello, singing “Allison,” followed by Tara Martinez who, as always, blew the roof off Mama’s with Shirley Bassey’s “Goldfinger!”
The great Sidney Myer, no minor yenta, gave a few insights into Barry Manilow, whose mama Sidney often booked to perform at Don’t Tell Mama. He remembered how she and Barry seemed to have gone to the same hair stylist and that she always packed the showroom. Was she that good? Sidney didn’t say, but Sonny, followed by a bus full of fans, always took a rear seat, right after Mom arrived on stage and kindly left a few seconds before she took her bows.
Sidney ended Ricky’s Homagerie by paying homage to the great Judy Garland, who’d once ended up in his lap, with a touching revenge song, “I Loved Him But He Didn’t Love Me,” and a rootin’ tootin’, throw your hat in the air, “Jamboree Jones,” and a “See you Next Year” from Ricky Ritzel.
Ricky Ritzel’s Broadway took place November 29 at Don’t Tell Mama (343 West 46th Street, between Eighth and Ninth Avenues). www.donttellmamanyc.com
Photos: Myra Chanin
