There’s certainly no disrespect intented in performance chameleon Matthew Martin’s very literally titled show, for this special performer holds very dear the enduring memories of the subjects of his homage. A talented singer, actor and dancer, Martin uses these talents to great effect in conjuring a bevy of icons through sight, sound, movement and dialogue.

First up is Bette Davis as 1950s Margo Channing from All About Eve, a gay icon of pure bitchiness and scathing dialogue. Martin’s Davis is spot on—the eyelid batting, the hand gestures and that voice. A few bars of the disco hit “I Will Survive” and “I Left My Heart in San Francisco” set a comic tone, but Martin gives us the pathos of this character with a tender moment of dialogue, taken from the script, where Margot ruminates on the flip side of stardom—“Funny business, a woman's career. The things you drop on your way up the ladder so you can move faster. You forget you'll need them when you get back to being a woman.”

Judy Garland (circa early 1960s) makes a predictably late entrance and swings into full concert mode. All swagger and vocal bluster, Judy plows through her many hits. Midway through this incarnation, Martin flips on an old tape recorder and delivers a verbatim segment of Garland’s attempt at a memoir. It’s the real Judy speaking on Judy the legend through Martin, and very illuminating.

Peggy Lee arrives in a puss-print mu-mu wearing huge sunglasses singing an unintelligible version of “I’m a Woman,” the lyrics quickly delivered in a comic take on Lee’s lazy jazz stylings. ”Fever” has Ms. Lee nodding out at the mic to be revived with hit of the tom-tom drum. A too-long mini-set of her hits segues into a Matthew Martin classic—his rendition of Leiber and Stoller’s “Is That All There Is” with its hilarious spoken-word verses. Martin gets the whole audience singing the chorus and snapping their fingers in unison. He thoroughly imbues his caricatures with their essences, elevating his show past impersonation into high art.

Katherine Hepburn, a natural for Martin, delivers some haughty dialogue from The Lion in Winter, before settling in to read A Visit from St. Nicholas (’Twas the Night Before Christmas). Of course she interrupts herself to pontificate on her Oscars, Spencer Tracy’s lovemaking and her disdain for napping.

A brief appearance by Ann Miller (in the biggest hair I’ve seen onstage) gives Martin the opportunity to strut his tap. And tap he does to “Gotta Hear That Beat” and “Too Darn Hot.”  (Before Miller died in 2004, she got a chance to see Martin’s imitation and was astounded.)

Martin simply could not leave out the quintessential singing, dancing, dead icon, Miss Baby Jane Hudson from What Ever Happened to Baby Jane? The visual alone is hilarious—the baby doll dress, the curlycue wig, the white face makeup with exaggerated lips. It’s Bette Davis at her worst/best. It’s scary, twisted and funny just like the 1962 camp movie. Martin delivers “I‘ve Written a Letter to Daddy” in that horrid Davis voice, but brilliantly morphs it into a rap song, miles from its original intent, but seemingly a natural.

Martin, who has a long history of stage and screen credits, breathes new life into these past legends with great skill and tenderness.  With a few minor tweaks and better pacing, this highly entertaining show will play for a long time, as audiences want to remember these icons. And, judging by the adoring, sold-out Rrazz Room audience, it may be a very, very long time.

Steve Murray
Cabaret Scenes
September 25, 2010
www.cabaretscenes.org