Performing Arts

HEIR JORDAN

Louis Jordan was an ingenious saxophonist, vocalist and songwriter whose energetic music lit up radio airwaves in the 1940s and continued to delight audiences into the 1960s. Roll Jordan Roll, at the Denver Civic Theatre, celebrates the moment in Jordan's life when he began to make it big with his...
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Louis Jordan was an ingenious saxophonist, vocalist and songwriter whose energetic music lit up radio airwaves in the 1940s and continued to delight audiences into the 1960s. Roll Jordan Roll, at the Denver Civic Theatre, celebrates the moment in Jordan’s life when he began to make it big with his band, the Tymphany Five. Like so many musicals, the show is strung on a thin plot line, and there are some problems with the direction. But the talented cast, the fabulous dance routines and the wonderful music of Jordan and his contemporaries combine to make lively, joyous entertainment.

Jordan and his company arrive in New York, looking for work and dealing with internal strife–most of it between warring lovers named Skeet and Caldonia. She’s looking for excitement, he’s looking for commitment. Louis himself is looking for a record deal, and before too long, he gets one.

Things just get better as the record company piles on the money. Jordan finally pops the question to sweet Lorraine–a beautiful, plump member of the Tymphany Five who enthusiastically accepts. Caldonia learns her lesson and woos back the disgruntled Skeet, while skirt-chasing musician Lucky settles down with singer Flo.

The trouble with the story is simple: No real conflict. It’s even hard to take seriously Skeet’s disillusionment with Caldonia, since it’s obvious he’s under her spell. So the show is really a series of related sketches, and the sketches are simply pretexts for the wonderful period tunes.

The distinguished Ed Battle as Eli conducts the entire company through the comic song “Ain’t Nobody Here but Us Chickens” in a full-blown dance routine–the chicken-bobbing number makes the whole thing funny. Handsome and graceful, Larry Wren sings the wry “Caldonia (What Makes Your Head So Hard?)” with easy wit. He has a fine tenor voice that makes “Is You Is or Is You Ain’t My Baby?” one of the great delights of the evening.

Lola Easterwood-Sanders gives the feisty Flo plenty of humanity and tons of style, especially in the Cuban number “Run Joe.” Lovely Linda Merritt exudes earthy charm as the vamp Caldonia, making “The Nearness of You” truly romantic.

But the show really belongs to Keith L. Hatten as Jordan and Vincent C. Robinson as Lucky. Hatten is a big guy who moves weightlessly through a series of great song-and-dance routines, from the comic “I Like ’em Fat Like That” to the romantic “Sweet Lorraine” and the high-energy “Let the Good Times Roll,” the Sam Thread/Fleecie Moore classic that closes both acts. His voice is the richest and most complex in the company, but it’s his tremendous presence and elegant movement that capture the imagination. Robinson is smaller and sometimes even funnier. But he has a big talent, a fine voice and a wonderful dance style–particularly well-showcased in “Beware, Brother, Beware” and “Knock Me a Kiss,” in which he woos the delightful (and far too young) Candy, played with effortless sweetness by Tilly Dyise.

Unfortunately, Roll Jordan Roll doesn’t give us a biography of Louis Jordan–we never even see Hatten hold a sax, and only a few of the songs are Jordan’s. The musical portions are all done well, but the few spoken lines sometimes seem a little slow and awkward; the pace could be picked up a trifle. Some of the attitudes in the show might appear to perpetuate certain benign cultural stereotypes, but it’s hard to avoid the occasional cliche when trying to capture a bygone era. The show is about 1940s music, and seizing the enormous vitality of that period is quite an accomplishment. This music stands up–and as that second act comes to a close with “Cho’ Cho’ Ch’ Boogie” and the giddy finale, “Let the Good Times Roll,” the audience floats out of the auditorium, buoyed by the show’s vigorous nostalgia.

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