Forever Plaid
Stuart Ross (Book); James Raitt (Musical Continuity, Supervision & Arrangements)
42nd Street Moon
If ever there were a musical whose subtitle should be “Oldies But Goldies,” it would have to be Stuart Ross’s (book) Forever Plaid, a 25+-song collection from close-harmony, all-male (and usually white) groups of the 1950s like the The Four Aces, The Four Lads, and The Crew Cuts. Along with the barbershop-quartet-like blends, solos like those of Perry and Frank as well as Desi Arnaz, Hoagie Carmichael, and Tennessee Ernie Ford pepper the music originally supervised and arranged by James Raitt.
Since its 1989 premiere in New York, Forever Plaid has played internationally on thousands of stages from high schools to local theatres, including a number in the Bay Area. Forever Plaid now lands in a pleasantly pleasing version at 42nd Street Moon, with its silky harmonies of yesteryear and its comedy full of corn and 1950s references particularly tailored for an audience of gray-and-white hairs.
We first meet the cast of four as they enter from a darkened, side curtain singing somberly a Gregorian-like chant – one that ends with a couple of ‘sha-booms.’ Through some miracle of star alignment and cosmic combustion, standing on stage looking quite alive are the once-dead quartet – members of a semi-professional group called Forever Plaid that once starred in the likes of prom dances, bowling alley parties, and hardware store openings. Dressed as they were in their car on February 9, 1964, before being “slammed by a group of parochial virgins” (i.e., hit broadside by a bus of teens going to see the Beatles on the “Ed Sullivan Show”), the chums since high school saw their’ journey to their first big gig tragically end as they rehearsed “Love Is a Many Splendored Thing” en route. That un-played concert has evidently plagued their wandering souls for sixty years. It seems the only way finally for them to rest peacefully in the great beyond is now to perform the planned set of music, albeit – they admit upfront – now being rusty in voice, lyrics, and choreography.
Jinx, Sparky, Frankie, and Smudge (Edu Gonzalez-Maldonado, Justin P. Lopez, Kevin Singer, and Matt Skinner, respectively) present over the next ninety minutes (no intermission) a mixture of songs that vary from slow, love numbers to perky ditties and medleys. In the beginning, The Plaids are still getting over a kind of cosmic jet lag as various ones jump in too soon, face the wrong direction, or forget which song is up next. The heavenly visitors surprisingly still suffer from bloody noses, asthma attacks, and indigestion and must resort to rolled tissue hanging out of a nostril, frequent spray down the throat, or a gulp of Milk of Magnesia (insertions that are somewhat humorous but sometimes silly distractions). But as soon as corrections and remedies occur, their four voices slide into mesmerizing harmonies of “Moments to Remember” (The Four Lads); spark into an early rock-and-roll-sounding and electric “Crazy ‘Bout Ya, Baby” (The Crew Cuts); and knock it out of the park when Jinx’s impressive tenor first achingly croons and then explosively belts “Cry” (Johnnie Ray and The Four Lads).
The ongoing inserts of humor of the evening are often cute but rarely draw big guffaws. A three-minute, eleven-second version of the kinds of acts once seen weekly on the Ed Sullivan Show (jugglers, animal acts, a Brunhilda aria, spinning plates) and a song-and-dance medley of the kinds of private functions they once played (weddings, Baptist revivals, Jewish bar mitzvahs) are unevenly funny and a bit too much like four guys quickly putting together a frat-party skit. What comically works better is the group’s prom dance version of their homage to the emerging Beatles of 1964 as they improvise a “She Loves You, Yes-siree.”
Daniel Thomas’ stage and music direction is at its best when the quartet sticks to their music. Overall, their voices blend the close harmonies well; and some of the solo moments are truly quite memorable like Smudge’s “Sixteen Tons,” Sparky’s “Catch a Falling Star,” Frankie’s “Chain Gang,” and Jinx’s “Kingston Market.”
Throughout their return-to-earth concert, the boys are in constant, coordinated hand, foot, and body movement (Brittany Monroe, choreographer). While reminiscent of the kind employed so deftly by many of both male and female groups of the fifties and early sixties, these designed moves for the Plaids often seem a bit stilted, jerky, and/or overly simplistic/repetitive.
A highlight of their musical numbers is the accompaniment by pianist Tim Fletcher and bass Kyle Wong. Both are a constantly visibly part of the stage show, with Justin Kelley Cahill’s scenic and lighting design having the right touches of the kinds of high school prom settings The Plaids once played (e.g., a background curtain of glistening metal streamers highlighted with both dreamy soft and spot-specific lighting). Nolan Miranda’s designed costumes wonderfully imitate the looks of the early boy bands when tuxes, ties, and boutonnieres were the norm.
As the mostly senior-aged audience at the matinee I attended exited, it was clear from smiling faces and the humming of familiar tunes that 42nd Street Moon’s Forever Plaid had certainly struck the right chords for so many of them.
Rating: 3 E
Forever Plaid continues through May 5, 2024, in a ninety-minute (no intermission) production by 42ndStreet Moon at the Gateway Theatre, 215 Jackson Street, San Francisco. Tickets are available online at http://42ndstmoon.org or by calling the box office at 415-255-8207.
Photo Credits: Ken Krantz Studio
