Okay, I’m going to come clean. At the risk of losing any friends I’ve acquired during my brief time writing cabaret reviews, I will admit that I’m not a dog fan. In fact, when I visit a friend’s home and his/her pet makes a beeline to sniff my privates, I want to just smack it upside its snout. But, in spite of that prejudice, I was more than open to hearing a singer who bills herself a “Dog-Walking Diva” for the potential camp value alone. After all, she couldn’t actually be bringing a dog onto the stage that might lunge at me, could she?

That Pamela Lewis, aka “Champagne Pam,” did not have real dogs as props in her recent show at Don’t Tell Mama was a relief, but that didn’t mean that the bitches weren’t ubiquitous. There was a stuffed dog sitting on the amplifier, another one perched on the piano, a picture of one laying face down on the piano, and yet another one in a leopard print shoulder bag on the stage next to the “diva.” Then came the songs, and if the word “dog” wasn’t in the title, there were references to woman’s best friend in the lyrics . . . and that’s before we even get to the between-songs script. The audience heard Pamela Lewis’s whole “dog’s life” story. The only thing missing was finding out how much that doggie in the window was.

Wearing a leopard-print thigh-length coat with a black feather boa around her neck, Lewis sexily sauntered to the stage singing a sultry version of Nellie McKay’s “Walking My Dog.” You just knew she was going to lose the jacket any second and off it came on the last “that’s what it’s all about.” From a cute line about having “many love affairs with many dogs—male and female,” she segued into “Them There Eyes,” which featured a jazzy piano riff from her excellent pianist Robert Lepley, but she couldn’t resist adding a “puppy dog eyes” coda. Then came a smooth version of “I Want a Little Doggie.” At the end of the song, she pulled one of those stuffed pups out her bag and serenaded it with Norah Jones’s “Man of the Hour” (“You never lie, and you don’t cheat . . . no baggage around your four feet/You won’t argue, you never talk . . . ”). When she followed that with an aria-like version of Babbie Green’s “Your Dog,” I thought, “Okay, this was fun, she established her theme well, time to move on.” No such luck.

But here’s the thing about Pamela Lewis: She has the potential to be a major cabaret star. It would be easy to characterize her Champagne Pam persona as “bubbly,” but that would be too limiting (as well as trite). She is also boisterous, ballsy and bad (and that’s off-stage as well as on). She’s got personality to burn and a keen sense of humor with a nice touch of sarcasm and irony, all of which projects her as compellingly sensual. And if it’s true that dog owners often have pets that look like them, you could imagine a cute, energetic, sweetly barking puppy of some breed looking like Pam, especially given those blond streaks highlighting her dirty brown mane. Most importantly, she is a polished singer with a confident stage presence, which made the focus on her theme and not on the songs all the more disappointing. Champagne Pam was clearly enjoying herself and her cleverness during her show, but the gimmicks detracted some of the attention away from a terrific voice that interprets songs exceedingly well.

The classic “Just in Time” became a song about getting to the potty from the dog’s point of view. Pam then offered a very cute version of Nina Nastasia’s “A Dog’s Life” while sweetly strumming a toy guitar, but when she followed that by singing the Gershwins’ “Who Cares?” to one of the stuffed dogs on the piano, it was all I could do not to shout, “Get away from the damn dogs already and pay attention to the audience!” But, then again, perhaps the audience for this show was mostly people who were in on the inside joke.

There were some definite highlights in the second half of the set, including a “Hurt So Bad”/”Tracks of My Tears” mash-up, and a lovely rendition of “That’s All” (Alan Brandt/Bob Haymes), where Pam was accompanied ably on guitar by her husband John Hurley. Things quickly petered out, though, with a contrived “Dogs Versus You” (Stephen Flaherty/Lynn Ahrens), and Hurley jealously shouting, “I hate dogs” (I could relate), followed by the comic “Sweet Zoo” (sung by Barbra Streisand in her first television special) where Pam finally gave equal time to other members of the animal kingdom.

Being able to sustain a theme throughout an entire cabaret show—especially when that theme isn’t about a singer, songwriter or style of songs—isn’t easy and Pamela Lewis should at least get credit for trying. (Aren’t there at least 15 songs about champagne?) But, in this particular case, the doggie theme was too cute by half . . . as in half way through the show she should have let go of the leash and just unleashed herself. I can only hope for two things: that this excellent performer and singer has gotten the canine cabaret out of her system, and that if I happen to run into her while she’s walking her dogs, I don’t hear, “Sic ’im.”

Stephen Hanks
Cabaret Scenes
April 13, 2011
www.cabaretscenes.org