Variety (October 1956)

Wednesday, October 17, 1956 NIGHT CLUB REVIEWS 65 Hotel Pinza, N. Y. Eartha Kitt with Sanford Gold; Ted Straeter and Mark Monte Orchs; $2.50 and $3 convert. Parlaying the coincidental pub¬ lication by Duell, Sloan & Pearce of her autobiography, “Thursday’s Child,” along with a new RCA Vic¬ tor LP album similarly titled, Eartha Kitt’s advent into the Per¬ sian Room of the Hotel Plaza is a showmanship package. But she doesn’t quite deliver that way. An offbeat personality who segued from a European tour with Katharine Dunham to a deserved click in Leonard Sillman’s “New Faces” of a few seasons a"o (not the concurrent edition), some¬ how this time out Miss Kitt is over¬ burdened by a self-endowed aura that doesn’t measure up.. For one thing,' even the most publicized femmes fatale of the Dietrich-Gabor genre play it cozy. Working in polite society to a mixed audience, the record has been—and should rightly be—that good balance is in order. Miss Kitt plays the “bad Eartha” motif all the way. It’s a monotone, saris change of pace. So the minx has got the mink—but 40 minutes of that is too much. As a matter of fact she opens with a mutation mink job that is vivid testimony to Miss Kitt’s prowess at garnering the worldly goods. Thereafter the songalog is in the same general vein. There is no “lift,’.’ until the end when “Evil” and her fractured French version of “Si Bon,” which had a disk vogue, give her recognition. The “material things” seem to be a lyric obsession with too much of her songalog from “I Don’t Care” io “If I Can’t Take It With Me I Won’t Go” and right down the line.- “Fascinating Man,” working to a male ringsider; “I’m Continental”; “An Englishman Needs Time” (somehow a British visitor would resent that from an American saloon singer), “Apres Moi,” “Come By Sunday”; a tongue-in-cheek “Old Fashioned Girl”; “I Love Him,” a so-so torch with a cockney brogue, are all in the same vein. Certainly a ballad or two, for change of pace, would relieve the sameness. There is too much self-conscious “production” and synthetic glamor attached to her cafe floor routine. Carrying Sanford Gold as her special maes¬ tro—he’s another of those bearded pianists of the Lennie Hay ton, Skitch Henderson school—is all right, but there seem to be extra instruments and the accent on the fortissimo is a little discordant. Miss Kitt has been around, in¬ cluding an abortive straight legit try (“Mrs. Patterson”), and espe¬ cially in the bistros which is her natural and, original bailiwick. Somehow the prospects of the Per¬ sian Room’s pretentiousness has endowed her with a vicarious ditto. The result militates against the ap¬ peal which the sloe-eyed, tawny songstress enjoyed in the past. Reroutining, and with particular care to enhancing the “warmth” of her cafe floor rapport, which is the more important in light of the intimacy 4 of such engagements, should correct a lot of it. Right now she gives too much the impression as if she believes she’s the personal pronoun per¬ sonification of every word of her s.a. lyrics. Her s.a. in relation to the b.o. would be enhanced if she played all those values in offbeat or throwaway manner; she hits it too hard as now constituted. Per always, the Ted Straeter dansapators are tiptop dispensers of the right brand of “society” music in this plush room, .and Mark Monte’s Continentals ditto. Abel. Statler Hotel, L. A. Carl Ravazza, De Marios (2), Ed¬ die Bergman Orch; $2-$2.50 cover. Carl Ravazza will be pouring 40 minutes of song twice nightly in the Terrace Room for the next three weeks and what he offers, because of the unique voice and easy-working style, will not be hard to take. Paradoxically, the latter half of his stint warms up the audience more than the first because he breaks up. the songs with amusing 6tories and jokes. Spreading the patter throughout might be a good idea. He walks on with a “Hello” greeting and settles down imme¬ diately for “My Lady Loves to” Dance,” “A Woman in Love,” Two Ladies in the Shade of the Banana Tree” and “Love and Mar¬ riage.” Some standard tunes of his act are then unveiled, along with the gentle jokes, plus a jivey “Rock, Rock, Rock.” Identification num¬ bers are “Calypso Joe,” which never seems to age, “Pedro,” the rnedley of old tunes he calls “Hold Hands Time,” “When the World Was Young” and the sfgnoff “Veni Su.” As an aside, Ravazza was no ad for' the Statler’s valet service— his tuxedo pants were full of pack¬ ing wrinkles. The De Marios, dance team, open the show, running through five different terp spots with the aid of a piano and chair as props. Team didn’t seem too friendly on the first number, warmed up 4 to each other on the second but were cold thereafter. The ballroomology shows some routining work but not enough to win any rousing hands. Gal’s costuming at show caught was unattractive. She’s a looker and could show it off better, Eddie Bergman and his 12-piece band lure the customers on the floor between shows and backs the acts appropriately. Brog. Copacaliana. N. Y. (FOLLOWUP) Jules Podell has refurbished the show surrounding Joe E. Lewis, presumably on the theory that everybody comes to see this head¬ liner at least once, and the repeat¬ ers should get some additional values out of the subsequent visits. While agreeing that Joe E. is the major event, the additional values give the proceedings a new plus. Margaret Whiting, marking her first cafe date in New York, is a singer of considerable ability. She’s further described under New The Wilder Bros, (3), a youthful song and instrumental trio, com¬ plete the lineup. These lads are good in both endeavors. Of course, in their opening slot at the Copa, they have difficulty making head¬ way with a crowd which presum¬ ably came solely for the purpose of hearing Joe E. However, they show good voices, aim at sight values with a cute fugue with ges¬ tures. Their , trio sax work carries some distinction and gives them a chance to make some impression on the crowd. The topliner delivers the coup de grace on the audience. His re¬ cital between stops at post-time stirs the audience with his poetic observations on the never-ending battle of the sexes added to his series of major works lampooning a wide variety of subjects. His ma¬ terial, per usual, is of the top cut. It’s clever and it’s funny and com¬ bined with his pixieish delivery, provides ample reason for repeat trade, which comes in copious doses during the Lewis tenure. The rest of the show remains picturesque and tuneful with the Doug Coudy-routined line working the Mel Mitchell, Mike Durso and Marvin Kahn tunes. June Allyn and Tony Reynolds assist song- wise in the production and Jackie Metcalf and Nora Bristow do the incidental terping. Durso’s orch backstops excellently, and Frank Marti continues with the Latin relief. * Jose. L© Carroll’s, Paris Paris, Oct. 8. Marga Llergo, Menestrals , (3), Danielle Dupre, Argehtinos (3), Dodo De Hambourg, Rudy Castel Orch (9) with Lena Samara, Micki Leff; $4 minimum. Le Carroll’s, the Champs-Elysees cave, is still the fad spot that shoe¬ horns general visitors and the Gal¬ lic monied set in indiscriminately. Tiny dance floor is usually packed to the smart Latino tunes of Rudy Castel Orch (9) aided by Lena Sa¬ mara’s singing, and the mixed floorshow offers enough highpoints to keep this boite in the top pop register. Staple Marga Llergo has finlly been promoted to the head of the bill where she really deserves to be. Hefty Mexican singer, with solid gams, belts out her songs of love and frenzy with animal spirit, perfectly underlined lyricking and an obvious relish and savor in her work that make her a trouper and one who is now ready for the U.S. Menestrals are a colorful song trio (two boys and a girl) who get innuendo and point into their clever mock folksong repertoire. Fine costuiping, movements and comic sense are rewarded by mitts, but it still remains too Gallic for other than specialized stateside chances. Argentinos are also com¬ posed of two men and a girl and are all teeth and visually appealing in their Latin dancing, but do not quite have enough room, to really unfurl their savvy terping. They still look good, would be even bet¬ ter w,ith some lebensraum. Danielle Dupre, she with the overstressed voice, has now toned it down a bit but has fallen to the dirge and chant ditties which re¬ main somewhat too similar in feel. Dodo De Hambourg is an ele¬ gantly proportioned German girl who gives out with one of the most engaging stripteases on the boards or nitery routes here. She has candor, youth and suppleness. Whole layout is introed by U.S. looker Micki Leff with poise. Mosk. Latin Quarter, N. Y. Lou Walters presentation of “ Fo- lies des Femmes ” with Frankie Laine, Cy Reeves, Gautier's Steeple¬ chase,, Betty George, Helen Wood, Syncopated Waters, Beau Brum- mels (4), Line, Jo Lombardi and Buddy Harlowe Orchs; $6 mini¬ mum. This latest edition of Lou Wal¬ ters’ revue has a solid topliner in Frankie Laine, wno has been mak¬ ing an annual stopover at the Latin Quarter. The rest of the show, except for comic Cy Reeves, is held over from the previous one. This time around, Laine is hew¬ ing strictly to his songalog, instead of interspersing the chatter as he did last time, and it’s a payoff routine all the way. Backed by A1 Lerner at the piano and Stanley Kaye at the drums, together with the Jo Lombardi orch, he comes on with his signature “I’m Gonna Live Till I Die” and keeps on belt¬ ing through over a dozen num¬ bers, most of which were disk clicks. It’s a straight song turn but Laine shows a savvy sense of pacing in mixing up the ballads with the rhythm numbers, the re- ligiosos with the blues. The reper¬ tory includes such tunes as “Ole Rockin’ Chair,” “Baby That Ain’t Right,” “That’s My Desire,” then segues into his list of record hits like “Cry of the Wild Goose,” “Lucky Old Sun.” “Sunny Side of the Street” and “Mule Train.” The final part of his act has him doing “Canadian Sunset,” “Shine,” “I Believe” (still the most effective bit in his turn), and “On the Road to Mandalay” in swing tempo. ■ He goes off to an ovation. As the supporting comic, Cy Reeves is a competent gag-teller with a bag of new stories and punchlines. He doesn’t blow ’em down, but he keeps a steady rip¬ ple. of laughter going with his script. He winds up with a com¬ edy medley of songs for a neat hand. Gautier’s Steeplechase is still a great act for the spot and, together with the Syncopated Waters dis¬ play, adds an offbeat note to the layout. Alco okay in their slots are Betty George with her cleav¬ age and her vocalizing, ballerina Helen Wood, the Beau Brummels, a quartet of male hoofers, and* the line in the production numbers. Lombardi cuts an excellent show and alternates on the bandstand with w the Buddy Harlowe combo for Customer dansapation. Herm. Moulin Rouge. H’wootl Hollywood, Oct. 9. Frank Sennes production of "C'est La Vie,” starring Helen Traubel and featuring Wiere Bros. (3), Jaynos & Bagyo (2), Pony Sherrell, Ffolliott Charlton, Wiil Carter, Luis Urbina ,' The Sennes Senders (50). Directed by Donn Arden; music and lyrics, Pony Sher¬ rell, Phil Moody; ■ costumes, Mme. Berthe; scenery, Harvey Warren; Eddie O'Neal Orch (20); $6.85 ad¬ mission including dinner. The experimental “name” policy essayed in the closing weeks of his third season has been firmed by Frank Sennes, beginning with the eye-popping “C’est La Vie” launch¬ ing the fourth season at the thea¬ tre-restaurant which has become the hallmark for the acme of ca¬ baret entertainment. Stripped of its name content, it’s a fine, fast- moving series of productions that dazzle and intrigue; with the names—and most particularly with the sensationally simple stint of Helen Traubel—it becomes a 100- minute show that rates as a me¬ morable evening of cafe entertain¬ ment. This time, Sennes’ opulence has turned more in the direction of costuming than sets. As a result, some tremendous Donn Arden numbers achieve even greater im¬ pact by virtue of the simplicity against which they are done. High¬ lights include a stunning “Sym¬ phonic D’Espagne,” a “Hollywood” finale that subtly satires the general opinion of the film colony as a rococo locale and a women's prison number that builds to some pulse-pounding excitement. These routines are skillfully handled by the 50 “Sennes Senders,” a line that includes some really eye-filling cuties, and enhanced by the good work of Ffolliott Charlton and the fine brassy chanting of Pony Sher¬ rell (who, as usual, teamed with Phil Moody to do the original mu¬ sic and lyrics). Miss Traubel’s 30-minute next- to-closing spot serves as a model of what opera-trained talent should essay in niteries. It’s ungim- micked save for a short, tongue-in- cheek excursion into such items as her standard “St. Louis Woman” and “Bill Bailey.” The rest of the time, she simply stands there and sihgs, winning ovations both for her unsurpassed vocal quality and her treatment of the melodies. She recognizes the inherent beauty of the songs and sings them on that level, rather than condescend¬ ing to handle pops, and the results are perfect. And the final encore handling, sans mike, of Brahm’s Lullaby achieves a degree of im¬ pact that makes it almost impossi¬ ble for the finale to follow her. Too, during her stay it might be advisable to drop the “Espagne” number, sock as it is; her simple handling of the Carmen material operatic sequence completely over¬ shadows the preceding production. For comedies, Sennes Irs im¬ ported the Wiere Btos, who grow funnier annually. Much of what they are doing here they did re¬ cently in the “Rosalinda” revival, but even the familiar material is done so slickly that it delights. They earn repeated guffaws with their buffoonery, which is neatly interspersed with good fiddle work, and they get above-average assist¬ ance from Mildred Seymour at the piano. Featured acts are intro¬ duced by the excellent acrobatics of Jaynos & Bagyo, a European im¬ port. Act is several cuts above even the highgrade Euronean en¬ tries of recent seasons and they handle some difficult hand-to-hand work with ease and considerable grace. Costumes by Mme. Berthe, the Sherrell-Moody score and Moody’s arrangements, Harvey Warren’s scenery, Lee Gotch’s choral direc¬ tion and the pit work of Eddie O’Neal’s crew all rate high. As usual, the production represents a hefty investment (probably around $200,000) and a weekly nut in the neighborhood of $25,000. That’s ordinarily a much too fancy neighborhood for contemporary cafe tastes. But the Moulin Rouge has become a solid tourist attrac¬ tion and the name policy should keep the locals coming as well as keep the house in the black. Show is in for three weeks. Kap. Chateau Madrid, N. Y. Carlos Ramirez, Ambra & Jose, Chiquita Sisters (2), Carlos Vala¬ dez and Luis Ortiz Orchs; $3.50 to $5 minimum. Showtime at the Chateau Mad¬ rid is a brief affair offered primar¬ ily as a rest period for the Latino terp buffs who pack the room. The vivid chile beat laid down by the Carlos Valadez and Luis Ortiz orchs keeps the floor busy at all times, but the aud isn’t disapproving when it has to sit out a sesh to make room for the trio of turns on the bill. Carlos Ramirez is heading up current layout. His power-packed pipes demand attention and he holds the tablers through a likeable song set. He gets off to a breezy start with a Spanish number, then goes multi-lingual on “Aneme E Core.” He sways into “More of. Your Amor” and then bangs over “Because You’re Mine” for a good begoff. Ambra & Jose acquit themselves adequately in a flamenco affair that displays some slick heel-an- toe maneuvers. The Chiquita Sis¬ ters start the show off on the right foot with a flavorsome terp turn. Gros. Blinstruli’s, Boston (FOLLOWUP) Boston, Oct. 9: Vince Martin & The Tarriers, folksinging foursome, follow the Blinstrub pattern of hot diskers drawing hefty biz to the massive 1,700-seat South Boston nitery. Three lads, two with guitars and one with banjo, open with “Every¬ body Loves Saturday Night,” play¬ ing and singing in rousing style. After “No Hiding Place Down Here” they intro Martin, a hot disker by virtue of his Glory label, “Cindy, Oh Cindy,” rapidly climb¬ ing in jukebox circles. Martin is a tall, personable, shy¬ appearing youngster with a defi¬ nite folksong style that’s ear-caress¬ ing. He gets off a mournful “Way¬ ward Wind” to good returns and lets out on “‘Casey Jones” for big round. The three back Martin up on the guitars and banjo and join in the choruses. Clincher is “Cin¬ dy,” about a faithful sailor, a switch, and gets over in fine fash¬ ion to heavy mittings. Martin, who seems physically identified with the newer type of rising male diskers, looks to have big teen appeal. Act could stand more showmanship, and boys could do more numbers. They seem to have just warmed up when bowoff comes at opener. However, they look to bring a steady outpour of patrons to the spot which is now readying its new electronic light¬ ing system with test set for Sunday (14). Show, with balance of acts same as last week, finales that night. Teresa Brewer opens Mon¬ day (15) with the new lighting sys¬ tem unveiled publicly for first time. Guy. Le Ruban Bleu, N. Y. Pat Bright, Betty Reilly, Phil Leeds, Harry Noble, Norman Paris Trio; $5 minimum. Le Ruban Bleu, with Phil Simon and A1 Segal ensconced as boni- faces, is tightening the show on every occasion for purposes of va¬ riety and greater entertainment values. With the recent additions and subtractions, the layout is a smooth operation. Newcomers in¬ clude Pat Bright, who is moving from one intimery to another and seems equally potent in every situ¬ ation, arid Betty Reilly, who has made good in some of the town’s larger rooms, including the Copa- cabana. Miss Reilly is a songstress of considerable-ability with sufficient groundwork to toy around the ly¬ rics and melody for excellent ef¬ fects. Dressed in a fire-engine red full length sheath, Miss Reilly moves in immediately for the take¬ over. She delivers a linguistic medley in which it’s suspected that some of the French phrases aint for the Howdy Doody trade. She has a good sense of comedy in ad¬ dition to h~r singing, as is evi¬ denced by the Elvis Presley take¬ off, and pace-changers such as “Look for the Rainbow” give her additional stature. Her guitar ac- comps give her added strength and she’s off excellently. Miss Bright is a versatile com¬ edienne with an ingrained sense of humor. Her spoofs of the chan- tooseys, the Hungarian ladies of the marriage marts, and an assortment of Judy Hollidayish characters carry her off to a successful conclu¬ sion. She has a bit on things , as they used to be that carries laughs as further insurance to a strong exit mitt. Phil Leeds, who holds over and is doubling from the legit comedy “The Matchmaker,” is also strong in the comedy department. Leeds underplays for lauvhs and is suc¬ cessful at it. His dissertation on a Spanish village is the highlight that hits a jackpot for him. Harry Noble is the new jack-of- all-work here. He emcees, fills in the piano lull and does his turn. More about him under New Acts. The Norman Paris Trio gives the acts staunch support. Jose. Cluli Crescendo, Houston Carmen Lopez, Tune-Ta tiers, (4), Jose Ortiz Orch (5); $3 minimum Sat. Houston, Oct. 9. The Club Crescendo opened after a summer hiatus during which time major repairs turned the fashion¬ able private c'.ub into Houston’s most modern showplace. Included in the overhaul was an enlarge¬ ment that upped the 250-seater to 450 capacity. In addition an hy¬ draulic floor, with a maximum height of eight feet above floor level, was Installed. The Tune-Tattlers are a refresh¬ ingly novel singing group of three boys and Dorothy Dressel. They have a more than pleasant vocal quality coupled with outstanding presentation auguring a fine fu¬ ture. The youngsters approach the mike from every angle. They put on their numbers, which vary from a spirited Injun mannerism accom¬ plished without benefit of props but with good use of pantomime and exaggerated hand motion dur¬ ing “Pass That Peace Pipe And Bury That Hatchet,” to a sock clos¬ ing medley of vintage period songs. The act runs 25 minutes and audi¬ ence howled for more as the group went off. Raised floor, 30 inches up, is a big advantage in show¬ ing the quartet off to the large room that would have had trouble seeing all ol the performance on conventional flooring. Carmen Lopez, an energetic Latin .dancer, opens the show with a standard 10 minutes of castanet work and heel-stomping that was hurt by betv/een-numbers remarks that were a bit drawn out. Fors. Bradford Roof, Boston Boston, Oct. 9. Jay Jayson, Nancy McDonald, Soler & Camargo, Harry DeAngelis Orch (5), Versitones (3); $2.50 minimum. Jay Jayson, the relaxed comic who returns season after season for A1 Taxier at the Bradford Roof, is pulling .the customers to the garden atop the hostelry with his gay buffoonings. Caught on the second lap of a two-weeker, Jayson, working in fine fettle, gets off a round of topical gags ranging from adventures in the- biz world to Hollywood life. Jayson uses an offbeat delivery style for telling effect, starting out- on what appears to be an innocuous subject and ending up with a wham kick. He throws in some slick carbons of Godfrey, Presley, Pinza, does a bit on Cagney as “The Gimp” from “Love Me or Leave (Continued on page 66)