Good news first: Quentin Earl Darrington’s deep voice was richly resonant, stirring, striking and strong, and he’s sincere. Bad news: what could’ve been riveting became riddled with detracting distractions, diluting and diffusing impact. Frequent gestures to (unnecessarily) “reinforce” lyrics became cliché—clenched fist, heart-tapping, pointing to himself on the word “I,” outward on “you,” one finger raised (“one man”), fingers fluttering for “butterflies.” I began to wearily, drearily anticipate them. Less would have been more, and more direct, but director Marcia Milgrom Dodge (who guided his impressive star turn in Ragtime’s Broadway revival) and he unwisely thought otherwise. An American flag was brought out ceremoniously for a patriotic segment. Dramatically unveiled, Martin Luther King’s giant photo dominated the stage, his famous speech piped in as formidable actor Darrington piped up with an already intense “I Dream,” singing—as King—the title song of a new musical produced in Atlanta. Uber-earnestness prevailed. For the solemn “The Prayer,” piercingly stratospherically high-voiced Titus Burgess, unblinking eyes ablaze, entered, this guest looking possessed. Some nervous, confused audience giggling resulted.

We got to hear “Get Here,” “Make Them Hear You”(Ragtime), with suddenly-appearing additional singers, “The Impossible Dream” and vaudeville star Bert Williams’s trademark lament about how “Nobody” cares (this tearjerker sung while painting teardrops on his face). The pleasure and power of Darrington’s voice, its soulfulness, and the kind soul inhabiting it, were undeniably potent. Although both “Being Alive” and “That’s Life” were oddly drained of convincing life blood, theatricality often reigned in reined-in numbers.

Rob Lester
Cabaret Scenes
September 26, 2011
www.cabaretscenes.org