Theater: Sorcerer of Shubert Alley

DREAMGIRLS Book and Lyrics by Tom Eyen

Music by Henry Krieger; Directed and Choreographed by Michael Bennett

If Broadway had a book of “begats,” it would read that show biz begat show biz begat show biz. Narcissism can be a powerful intoxicant. It has fueled some remarkable musicals. Think of Gypsy and, more recently, A Chorus Line. Dreamgirls is not quite on that level. Its heart pumps more grease paint than blood. But it demonstrates that you’ve gotta have heart just to be in show biz. For every triumph savored, there is a numbing disaster, for every dream a nightmare; and the everlasting need is to go on striving, surviving, for that is the core of show biz.

At times, it seems as if Michael Bennett, the show’s sorcerer, has borrowed Prospero’s wand. He conjures up scenes of potent magic that prove as evanescent as dreams. What is palpably dazzling merges imperceptibly with razzle-dazzle. The sheer richness of the surrounding technique and texture blanches the text. Robin Wagner’s scenic design consists of stark metal, light-crammed towers that move and revolve to form a kaleidoscope of geometric patterns. Costumer Theoni V. Aldredge must have purchased her swatches from a rainbow merchant to fashion the slinky, sequined gowns, and Tharon Musser’s lighting is a palette of explosive colors.

Following the lead of Stephen Sondheim’s Sweeney Todd, Bennett opts to develop the story line almost entirely in song, including operatic recitatives. The tale is rather like the saga of the Supremes’ rise from Harlem’s Apollo Theater to top-of-the-pop-charts renown, to gether with the emergence of Diana Ross.

Here the Ross figure is known as Deena (Sheryl Lee Ralph), and the Dreams trio is completed by Lorrell (Loretta Devine) and Effie (Jennifer Holliday). They sing Krieger and Eyen’s evocative rhythm-and-blues score with impeccable ensemble precision and delightful brio.

Holliday is more than a delight. She has devastating vocal firepower and a stage presence that could crumble reinforced concrete. While the show was out of town, she and Bennett got into an “I quit” — “You’re fired” imbroglio that had her out of Dreamgirls until the pair made up. Near the end of Act I, Effie’s lover (Ben Harney), who is the cynical manager of the trio, replaces her with a slim looker who possesses the svelte image he feels that the Dreams need to captivate white audiences. He has also taken a new bedmate. Partly in lamentation, partly as anathema, Holliday sings And I Am Telling You I’m Not Going. In her roiling heartbroken fury, she makes it a roof raiser.

As galvanic as Holliday is Cleavant Derricks as a slam-bang comic belter sadly beached by new musical tides. A superb choreographer, Bennett is surprisingly skimpy on dances. Only one number, Steppin ‘ to the Bad Side, fully displays his stylish percussive mastery. But then, the entire evening marches to his drumming beat.

—By T.E. Kalaem