Reconsider Baby. Elvis Presley: A Listener’s Guide (2nd edition)

reconsider baby cover

 

Just published is the 2nd edition of my book Elvis Presley: A Listener’s Guide.  It is available through Amazon in both paperback and kindle editions.

The new version is significantly revised and expanded, with around 65% extra text, most of which examines how Elvis and his work was discussed in the press during the 1950s through the 1970s.   A detailed interview with yours truly about the new content can be found at the following link:
http://www.elvisinfonet.com/interview_Shane_Brown_Elvis-Presley-Reconsider-Baby-A-Listeners-Guide-Vol2.html

Over 500 articles are referenced and quoted from within the text, and a number of them force us to question what we thought we knew about Elvis and how his music was viewed when it was released.  For example, albums such as From Elvis in Memphis, and a TV show such as that for NBC in 1968, received far more mixed reviews than we have been led to believe, and were not viewed as instant classics.  Elsewhere, the text delves deeply into the backlash Elvis received following his 2nd appearance on The Milton Berle Show, and discovers that the instigator of that backlash, Jack Gould, had a long-running vendetta against Berle himself that dated back to 1951 and which may well have triggered his comments against Elvis.  A number of the myths regarding the reception of the 1957 Christmas album are also dispelled.

Below is a short excerpt from the book (pp.236-240), beginning with the final paragraph about the Live a Little, Love a Little sessions and continuing through an examination of a surprising set of articles that appeared in 1968, which suggest that there was a considerable amount of renewed interest in Elvis not just before the TV special was screened, but before it was even made.

*

Live a Little, Love a Little was another attempt at changing the direction of Elvis’s film career.  Army Archerd wrote that producer Doug Laurence described Speedway “as an ‘Elvis Presley picture,’ Stay Away Joe as ‘a picture starring Elvis Presley,’ and the current film as ‘halfway between them both.”[1]  The film attracted some solid reviews in the main.  In the Los Angeles Times, Kevin Thomas wrote that the film is “a pleasant Elvis Presley picture that’s rather more sophisticated than the durable singing star’s 27 prior efforts.”[2]  There were also positive comments when the film was reviewed in Monthly Film Bulletin – in 1978!  Due to poor box office in America, the movie was not given a theatrical release in the UK.  As with the Los Angeles Times review from a decade earlier, the reviewer notes the “attempts to create a more eccentric, sophisticated setting for Presley than hitherto.”[3]  Not all reviews viewed the film in the same way, however.  Variety considered the film “one of [Elvis’s] dimmest vehicles…Nothing can buck that writing.  Songs are dull, physical values are standard, and mediocrity prevails.”[4]  Sometimes, though, Elvis must have felt that everything and everyone was working against him.  Even Rudy Vallee, who starred in the film alongside Elvis, told Hy Gardner a couple of years later: “Elvis Presley?  I worked in a picture with him recently and still can’t understand his popularity.”[5]

Just under four months after the recording of the Live a Little, Love a Little soundtrack, Elvis would start work on his TV special for NBC, a show that would go down in history as the performance that resurrected Elvis’s career and which would become known as the “comeback special.”  However, things are not quite that simple.  As has already been noted in this chapter, Elvis had been recording some fine material outside of the soundtrack sessions, and some of those songs would find themselves being used for the TV special, most notably Guitar Man and Big Boss Man, as well as Let Yourself Go from Speedway.   This in itself suggests that Elvis and those around him knew that he was doing some worthwhile work in the studio during these “pre-comeback” years.

What is most notable, however, is that interest in Elvis had increased even before the TV special aired – before it was even filmed, in fact.  Over the previous few years, he had been the subject of very few magazine and newspaper articles indeed, with the exception of a small flurry surrounding his thirtieth birthday in 1965 and his wedding in 1967, and in the case of the latter, the emphasis was on his private life and not his career.  But all of that changed in 1968.

In February, an extended article by C. Robert Jennings in the Los Angeles Times’ Westmagazine (and reprinted in numerous regional newspapers a couple of months later) featured an interview with Elvis and those who worked with him.  In it, Elvis talks about the changes to the sounds of records and how they are made, in a way that is remarkably similar to his monologue on the same subject during the TV special later in the year:

“Sure, recordings and arrangements have improved. They’ve learned to put strings and flutes and the softer instruments in the supporting music and trick things up some with choruses and electronic gimmicks, but the beat is still there, it’s still the thing, and it’s still what I call rock ‘n’ roll.  Just look at the charts and listen to the top records.  A little refined, maybe, but basically the same.”[6]

Later in the same article Elvis says that in Speedway he plays a “singin’ millionaire-playboy-race-driver.”  He is asked if he had played that kind of role before, and replies “only about 25 times, Sir.”[7]

What is fascinating about the article is that it was the first in a number of years (probably since the trio based on interviews from the set of It Happened at the World’s Fair) that takes Elvis seriously both as a man and an artist.  The author interviews Elvis, Parker, director Norman Taurog, and Nancy Sinatra, and for once it appears that Parker doesn’t appear to have influenced the lengthy finished article, with the writer less than complimentary at times, describing Elvis as sounding “like a displaced Ink Spot” on How Great Thou Art.[8]  Elvis discusses God, loneliness, and music – but mostly music, and he sounds more serious about it than for some time, telling the interviewer that when he was younger he “loved the records of Sister Rosetta Thorpe, all the cowboy singers, and Johnny (sic) Ray’s Cry I liked a lot.”

This article alone would be noteworthy given the lack of commercial success for Elvis at the time and lack of interest in him generally, but it was not the only one in the year preceding the broadcast of the TV show.  Some of this renewed interest in Elvis may have come about through the different types of movies he was now making.  “He no longer makes ‘Elvis Presley Pictures,’” Army Archerd told readers in June 1968.[9]  Here, Elvis was asked why he had never attended an Academy Award ceremony.  Had he not been invited?  “Yes, they invited me…but I’ve never gone.  I’ll go when I get a nomination.”  It is worth noting that Elvis was nominated for Grammy awards (and won three) but nonetheless never attended.

Perhaps most intriguing here is the news that “Elvis has…been invited [to the Academy Awards] not only to attend…but also has been invited to perform some of the nominated tunes. (None of his, by the way).  However, he’ll not perform on the show – and for the obvious commercial reason: he’s turned down as much as a million dollars to appear on television in a show other than an old movie.”  If this is indeed true, then one has to question Parker’s methods.  The publicity from an Academy Award ceremony appearance would, no doubt, have given Elvis’s career a much-needed shot in the arm in the mid-1960s.

Another flurry of articles appeared in the summer of 1968, one of which tackles the enigma of Elvis.  “Although he’s been around and among ’em for a dozen years or more, the one top personality Hollywood folks have never been able to fathom – let alone meet with – is Elvis Presley,” Harold Hefferman writes.  “He often seems more the mythical result of a press agent’s dream than the typical millionaire star next door.  It becomes increasingly difficult to believe that this young man is real.”[10]

There is a sense of frustration in the Hefferman article, as he gains access to the set of Speedway and yet finds he cannot get close to Elvis, let alone have an interview.  However, not all reporters were shunned in the same way.  Vernon Scott wrote around the same time that, back in 1956, Elvis  “had the brashness of the very young, compensating for what he lacked in confidence.  In the intervening years he has never denied the UPI an interview.  Big deal?  Not when you consider Presley as something less than a head of state.  But when you know his attitude towards the press, then, yes.”[11]

Scott didn’t just write one article on Elvis in the summer of 1968, but three.  What is clear is that he found Elvis at a crossroads in his life, and that he had changed over the years, becoming more comfortable in his own skin.  When he met Elvis on the set of Charro, he found “an entirely different Elvis from the slick, black-haired youth of the past, strikingly dressed and poutingly pretty.  The self-conscious slouch was gone too.”[12]  He goes on: “For a dozen years, Elvis unfailingly greeted me: ‘Hello, Mr Scott,’ even after a score of interviews.  This time I beat him to the punch: ‘Hello, Mr Presley.’”  The 33-year-old star broke into a confident grin.  ‘Hello, Vernon.’”

The last of Scott’s articles was important in that it gave the public their biggest signal yet that Elvis was changing, and was no longer happy just to sit back and make mediocre movies and have the money roll in.  Something had changed.  “Before too long I’m going to make some personal appearance tours,” he told Scott.  “I’ll probably start out here in this country and after that play some concerts abroad, starting in Europe.  I want to see some places I’ve never seen before. I miss the personal contact with audiences.”[13]  While Elvis never toured Europe, of course, he was at least being truthful when he said he was planning a return to live performances.

While Elvis might have made that decision following the taping of the 1968 TV special a couple of months earlier, that taping did not account for the spate of interviews and articles prior to it being shown in December, and dating back as far as the beginning of the year.

What is hard to ascertain is why those articles were written.  Was is because eyebrows were raised that Elvis had started to make different types of films?  This is a possibility, but it is worth noting that the articles by C. Robert Jennings and Harold Hefferman saw the authors visiting Elvis on the set of Speedway and not Stay Away, Joe or Live a Little, Love a Little.  And, by this point, one has to question whether or not a change in direction of Elvis’s movie career was really that newsworthy, as it wasn’t as if he was now going to star in a major big-budget film.   Given the timing of the first of these interviews, a renewed interest in Elvis may well have come from the release of better quality singles such as Big Boss ManGuitar Man, and U. S. Male, but even this does not stack up given the relative failure of those records in the American singles charts.  That said, when Elvis was revelling in the success of his engagement at the International Hotel in Las Vegas in August 1969, Robert Hilburn of the Los Angeles Times wrote that “the musical rebirth of Presley can be traced back to his recording over a year ago of two Jerry Reed songs, Guitar Man and U. S. Male.  The beat was from Nashville and Memphis rather than from Hollywood.  Elvis seemed interested again. Something was happening.”[14]

This leaves a few more options, none of which make for compelling arguments.  The first of these is that there was renewed interest in Elvis following his nomination (and subsequent) win of a Grammy for How Great Thou Art, but then none of the articles concentrate on this, and most don’t even mention it at all.  There is also the option that the Parker publicity machine had started whirring back into operation at the beginning of 1968, and the journalists in question were invited to see Elvis on the set of his films and interview him – but then, if this was the case, why was it that Hefferman never even got to speak to Elvis when he visited the set of Speedway?

That leaves the alternative that it was simply time for a renewed interest in Elvis and his music thanks to that unpredictable, and yet ever-present, pendulum of popularity that seems to control the highs and lows of showbiz careers.  If that was the case, the timing of the TV special was remarkably good fortune in that it was able to take that slight swing in Elvis’s favour and help to turn Elvis’s career around.  What is clear is that Elvis was a big draw on television during this time.  A study made of movies shown on television between 1961 and 1969 showed that Elvis had seven of the highest-rated movies, three more than any other actor.[15]  This included the 1968-69 season where Elvis again was top, with five of the highest-rated films, one more than Doris Day.

[1] Army Archerd, “Just for Variety,” Variety, April 9, 1968, 2.

[2] Kevin Thomas, “Live a Little Is No. 28 for Presley, Los Angeles Times, October 24, 1968, Part IV, 28.

[3] “Live a Little, Love a Little,” Monthly Film Bulletin, August 1978, 161.

[4] Murf, “Live a Little,Love a Little,” Variety, October 9, 1968, 27.

[5] Hy Gardner, “Glad You Asked That,” Pasadena Star News,  March 13, 1971, 13.

[6] C. Robert Jennings, “Elvis Lives!” Los Angeles Times, February 18, 1968, West Magazine section, 29.

[7] Ibid, 31.

[8] Ibid.

[9] Army Archerd, “Presley Image Takes on Adult Shape,” Naugatuck Daily News, June 29, 1968, 6.

[10] Harold Hefferman, “25 Films Later, Elvis Baffles Hollywood,” Philadelphia Daily News, August 8, 1967, 38.

[11] Vernon Scott, “Elvis Presley, Adam in Rock ‘n’ Roll’s Book of Genesis, Revised Music World,”  Lansing State Journal, September 30, 1968, E5.

[12] Vernon Scott, “No More Spangles for Elvis,” Long Beach Independent, September 26, 1968, A33.

[13] Vernon Scott, “Singer Plans Overseas Tour,” Oxnard Press-Courier, September 30, 1968, 13.

[14] Robert Hilburn, “Elvis’ Musical Rebirth Shows Top Pop Impact,” Des Moines Register, August 26, 1969, 7.

[15] “Elvis Presley is Part of Formula That Assures Movie High Ratings,” Pottsdown Mercury, May 7, 1970, 29.

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Bobby Darin: The Milk Shows

milk shows

The last in the series of blog posts reviewing Bobby Darin recordings.

March 1963 saw the announcement that Bobby would “be featured in a Monday through Friday program series on Radio Station WIBA.  The program titled Bobby Darin will be heard at 3.33 p.m. and will feature a talk (sic) and music by this young star, designed to appeal to both adults and teenagers – not rock and roll music.  The Bobby Darin show will be sponsored by the American Dairy Association.”[1]

These five-minute radio programmes became known as The Milk Shows.  Darin would record the shows at Capitol studios, and they would then be overdubbed with fake (very fake) applause, thus giving the impression that the songs were being performed live – although how many listeners were fooled is debatable.   The tapes of these shows were found back in 2002, with a trio of songs being released on the Aces Back to Back release in 2004.  After this, there was an inexplicable delay of another ten years before the release of a double CD set containing more than ninety tracks.

If you’re wondering how ninety tracks fit on a mere double CD set, then it’s worth stating that no songs featured in the series was recorded in full (with one exception).  Each song was a bite-size version lasting, in most cases, sixty to ninety seconds.  This in itself makes the release a unique listening experience, but it is also worth remembering that Darin was accompanied by just a jazz quartet featuring Richard Behrke, Ronnie Zito, Milt Norman and Billy Krist – no matter what the song.

The material that Darin chose to record for The Milk Shows cover the whole gamut of his repertoire, from renditions of rock ‘n’ roll hits Splish Splash and Multiplication to a wide variety of standards and show tunes.  Some of the songs had been recorded by Bobby previously for record release, and those numbers often get given a different feel here thanks to the stripped back instrumentation.  Other tracks are ones that Bobby never did record in a studio, and so these versions are the only ones we have.

The recording dates for these shows are unclear.  The news article quoted earlier is from the beginning of March 1963, suggesting that the recordings probably began around the same time.  Whether all tracks were recorded at once or over a longer period is not known, although it’s worth noting that, when Darin draws upon songs he had already recorded, all of them date from studio sessions before March 1963, thus suggesting that The Milk Shows were recorded over a short space of time during that spring and/or summer.  For example, while You’re the Reason I’m Living (and songs from that album) are included here, Eighteen Yellow Roses and songs from that album are not.  There are a couple of exceptions.  Days of Wine and Roses would be recorded in 1964 for the Hello Dolly to Goodbye Charlie album (in a very different arrangement), and The Sheik of Araby was recorded in late 1965, but remains unissued.  However, Darin dates The Milk Show version of Days of Wine and Roses by referring to it as “this year’s” Academy Award-winning song, thus dating the performance to 1963, but sometime after the ceremony that took place on April 8.

While these recordings are to be welcomed, it should be mentioned that Darin is not always in the best of voice, and certainly doesn’t always give a song the care and attention he would for a commercial recording.  The very first song on the double CD is a case in point.  Too Close for Comfort, from the musical Mr Wonderful, hardly gets the album off to an auspicious start, with Bobby’s voice sounding croaky and he hits a number of bum notes along the way.  Things improve somewhat for Pennies from Heaven, which gets a nice run-through, but the big finish doesn’t quite come off in the way it normally would on a Darin recording.  Part of this is due to the low-key performances, but there is also a sense here that some of the songs simply weren’t rehearsed enough.  Around the World is an example of this.  It gets an upbeat, jazzy rendition but there are points when Bobby lags behind the beat and others where he seemingly makes the melody up as he goes along.

Elsewhere, it seems to be simply a worn-out voice that is the problem.  Climb Every Mountain starts off well, and has a better arrangement than the outing it would receive ten years later on The Bobby Darin Show TV series, but the climax of the song shows that Darin’s voice is shot to pieces.  Perhaps this was one number that should have remained in the vault.  Climb Every Mountain isn’t the only song here that wouldn’t be given a studio recording but would appear years later.  Sixteen Tons was given a brilliant (and lengthy) reworking during an appearance on The Jerry Lewis Show in 1968 and would emerge again on The Bobby Darin Show (although not included on the DVD of that series).

Unsurprisingly, some of the most interesting songs here are the ones that Bobby didn’t record or perform elsewhere.  The choice of material is also intriguing.  A number of tracks are songs associated with Bing Crosby, for example, including I’m an Old Cowhand (during which Bobby can’t resist throwing in some impressions), Sweet and Lovely and Too-Ra-Loo-Ra Loo-Ral which gets crooned nicely in Darin’s softest voice.  Less surprising perhaps are the series of tracks associated with Al Jolson, including April Showers, Rock-a-Bye Your Baby, and Let Me Sing and I’m HappyApril Showers is particularly good, and reminds us just how good a ballad singer he was during this period, particularly when not bogged down by the choir that appears to pop up at every opportunity when the tempo falls below a certain number of beats per minute on the Oh! Look at Me Now and You’re the Reason I’m Living albums.

Some of Bobby’s biggest hits get quite a makeover in this new setting.  Lazy River, for example, is taken at an ultra-slow pace and is given a bluesy vocal that has little of the show-stopping nature of the studio recording. Splish Splash, on the other hand, seems a little bizarre when backed by a jazz quartet, although Dream Lover doesn’t suffer in the same way – in fact it works better here than with the big band on the Darin at the Copa album.  You Must Have Been a Beautiful Baby is also heard in a very different arrangement to the hit twist version.  This swing version is just as credible, and makes one wish that Darin had recorded it again in this style at a later date.   Interestingly, Mack the Knife isn’t sung here, but is just used as an instrumental theme tune for the radio show.

It is often the ballads that get given most care and attention by Darin in this set of performances.  For example, Autumn Leaves is given a Latin rhythm and is beautifully sung, and a full studio recording of this lovely song would have been very nice indeed.  Also given a Latin feel and a similar vocal is the song which is, arguably, the greatest written by Irving Berlin, How Deep is the Ocean, as well as Fools Rush In.  The use of these Latin rhythms is interesting as Darin rarely employed them elsewhere, although, going by these brief outings, an album in the bossa nova style would not have been a bad move.  Elsewhere, I’ll Be Seeing You is given a gentle swing rhythm, but Darin sings it as a ballad, mostly singing it in his subdued voice which is most effective.    Also of note is a sincere rendition of La Vie en Rose.  Perhaps the most bizarre ballad performance finds Bobby reciting the lyrics of Days of Wine and Roses while the tune is played in the background.

A number of songs from the mammoth January 1963 sessions appear here.  Hello Young Lovers and This Nearly Was Mine are given renditions similar to their studio counterparts, whereas the arrangements of I Ain’t Got Nobody, Please Help Me I’m Falling and Be Honest With Me are simplified somewhat and benefit from the lack of backing vocals – although Be Honest With Me still sees Darin adding the same mannerisms to his voice as he does on the You’re the Reason I’m Living LP version.  What Kind of Fool am I is given a lightly swinging version here that arguably is more effective than the more traditional performance recorded a few months earlier.  What is particularly interesting is how Bobby approaches the end of the song in a completely different way.  There is no big finish here – instead, he sings the final lines is his softest voice, almost a falsetto, and it is just as effective as the traditional ending.  During the Broadway album sessions, Darin had recorded Tall Hope from the musical Wildcat.  Here he turns his attention to the most famous song from that show, Hey Look Me Over.  The normal march rhythm of the song is cast to one side in favour of a straight-ahead jazz approach, but it all seems a little half-hearted, and isn’t helped by a rather inept and unenthusiastic attempt at scat singing.

Alongside the well-established standards are some of the novelty songs that Darin appears to have had a genuine affection for given that the album of duets with Johnny Mercer is filled with such material.  Here we have Manana, co-written by, and a hit for, Peggy Lee, for whom Bobby often expressed his admiration.  Darin puts in a great performance here, with his voice sounding stronger that on many of the other tracks.  While Manana is fun, a number like Mairzy Dotes and Dozy Doats is an example of a novelty song that is simply tedious.  ‘A’ You’re Adorable gets a nice run-through, as does Row, Row, Row, which includes the verse which is not featured on the recording with Johnny Mercer on the Two of a Kind album.

Ironically, the best song from The Milk Show recordings is All the Way, released on Aces Back to Back but, oddly, not included on The Milk Shows set.  Quite why this lovely performance wasn’t included the second time around is a mystery, not least because it’s the only  full-length performance in the ninety or so songs.  Here, Darin takes a Sinatra signature song, gives it a gentle jazz combo backing and a subdued, beautiful performance that certainly deserved to be the climax of the double CD set.  Strangely, the other two songs from the shows released on the Aces Back to Back CD were reissued on The Milk Shows release.

The double CD release is, of course, wonderful to have, but it can also be rather frustrating.  Much of this is to do with technical issues such as the fake applause and, even worse, Bobby trying to interact with the fake applause.  It all becomes rather distracting, especially when each song only runs for a minute or so.  That said, presumably the applause was already on the tapes when they were found and so couldn’t be removed.  Less forgivable is where songs are joined together in such a way that Bobby is talking over his own singing,  perhaps saying “thank you” to the audience that isn’t there when he’s already started on the next number.  The same happens in reverse, where he’s introducing the next song while still finishing the previous one.  While one can understand why there was a desire to present each CD as one uninterrupted piece, there also seems little reason why songs couldn’t have been re-ordered so that these overlaps didn’t take place.  If that wasn’t possible, then a simple fade out and fade in would have worked better than the jarring mix of two songs together that occasionally happens.  Despite this, it should be reiterated that the sound quality of these tapes that were lost for more than thirty years is very good indeed.

Technical issues aside, the run of more than fifty songs in a space of just over an hour is almost exhausting, and with each song having the same instrumentation in its backing, they tend to run in together as if they were one long medley and thus suffer from becoming aural wallpaper.  Likewise, while Bobby is on very good form in places and gives some fine, nuanced performance, there are also moments where Darin the perfectionist is, seemingly, on holiday.  Back in 1960 in an article in Downbeat magazine, Gene Lees had commented on problems with Darin’s intonation in his early albums of standards.[2]  During The Milk Shows recordings this issue rises again, whether due to a tired voice or the sheer speed required to get everything down on tape.  However, we also need to remember that these were, in all likelihood, intended for a one-off broadcast not to be repeated – and certainly not to be listened to over and over again some forty years later.

What The Milk Shows undoubtedly show us is that Darin should have recorded with a jazz combo more than he did.  The one album that resulted from such a set-up, Winners, is Bobby at his very best, and one can imagine that, with a sensible amount of studio time, a number of the songs performed here could have been recorded in full performances for a follow-up album that would have been just as good.  That, sadly, didn’t happen, and so The Milk Shows CD release is the nearest we have, and for that we should be thankful.

[1] “Bobby Darin Show,” Capital Times, March 2, 1963, 3.

[2] Lees, “Bobby Darin and the Turn from Junk Music,” 16.

Show Boat (San Francisco Opera) Review

show boat

The problem with the San Francisco Opera Show Boat is that it is performed by an opera company.  Currently being screened in cinemas in the UK, this stage production is a harmless way of spending two and a half hours, but is otherwise something of a mess – especially to those of us who know the show well.

The score of Show Boat was restored a few decades ago to that which was presented on Broadway in 1927, with the songs that had been cut since then restored to their rightful place.  But not in this production.  Gone were numbers such as I Might Fall Back on You, In Dahomey, and I Would Like to Play a Lover’s Part.   Why?  No idea.  It’s not like the San Francisco production was of Wagnerian length – and, even if it was, why would that matter?

It gets even odder in the second half where not only are songs missing, but those that remain are sung by different characters and the narrative changed!  Dance the Night Away was sung by Kim on the Cotton Blossom in the 1928 version of the show (it was a replacement for a different song sung by the same character in the same scene in the 1927 original), but was sung by her mother, Magnolia, in the current production – and she sings it on Broadway in a completely new scene (pictured above).

One has to wonder why a respected opera company would tackle a classic piece of American theatre that has been around for nearly ninety years and think it new better than Kern, Hammerstein and Ziegfeld and begin to rewrite it.  Would they do the same with La Traviata?  I don’t think so.   And the changes didn’t stop there.  Dialogue was also altered for no apparent reason, as were lyrics.

The opening chorus originally opened with the line “niggers all work on the Mississippi,” but here it was changed to “coloured folks work on the Mississippi.”  This is political correctness gone mad.  The show is partly about racism for God’s sake – cutting out the racist language that the show is criticising is just completely insane.   It’s like making a film about homophobia and cutting out all the derogatory language that is part of that.   What’s even more mad is that the word “nigger” was retained during the dialogue – so why edit it out of the opening chorus?  The whole point of that opening line of the show is that it is hard-hitting – it told Broadway audiences in 1927 that this was no ordinary, light-hearted show.

But, all these changes aside, the whole thing completely fails as decent entertainment because it is performed by an opera company.  It’s like hearing Pavarotti sing Frank Sinatra.  It doesn’t work.  Yes, it’s fine for some characters – Magnolia and Ravenal can be sung with an opera voice and the show loses nothing.  But Julie ends up as a drunk in a bar singing torch songs – and sounds like Kiri te Kanawa when she should be sounding more like Billie Holiday.  It means the whole thing doesn’t make sense for the story and the characters become unbelievable.  Talking of unbelievable, Magnolia is meant to be 16 when the show starts, and yet is played by Heidi Stober who, according to my calculations, is nearer forty.   Yes, in opera we’re used to this kind of casting – but this isn’t opera, it’s theatre.  Sadly those behind the production failed to realise this.

Messing with the order of songs, cutting numbers and changing the narrative would be fine for viewers who don’t know the show well as they wouldn’t realise what had changed or been excised. However, when you couple this with a production that fatally casts the wrong kind of singers it’s a step too far.  And all of this (complete with appalling over-acting at times) is magnified when you then watch it on a big screen in a cinema.    There were some very good episodes, most notably a powerful rendition of the miscegenation scene which still moves an audience ninety years after it was written, but for the most part this was a fatally flawed production of a show that doesn’t get revived nearly often enough to start with.