Tim Cahill Is Captivating “if Slightly Dissipated”

By Michael Barbieri****Tim Cahill is a captivating performer. Tall and impeccably dressed in a stark black suit, he has a striking stage presence, and a lovely bari-tenor voice. The promo for his show, It’s About Tim(e), at Pangea, promised “an evening of sophisticated, if slightly dissipated entertainment…and some spectacular singing and piano playing along the way.” And while I did enjoy much of his singing, there were aspects of the show that I found a little too dissipated and therefore problematic.

Cahill began on an encouraging note, with a medley of “It’s Alright With Me” (C. Porter), which transitioned into Kander and Ebb’s “Willkommen.” This then led into “Donde Esta Santa Claus?” (G. Scheck, R. Parker, A. Greiner), which seemed out of place. This particular run of his act had been done originally as a holiday show, but we were now two weeks into the new year, so it didn’t quite work. Cahill might’ve been better off cutting that third song. But that’s a minor quibble.

After some welcoming patter, we heard “Her Bathing Suit Never Got Wet” (N. Simon, C. Tobias), a story song recorded originally by The Andrews Sisters. Shaking his maracas and playing various other percussion instruments, the song was lighthearted, campy, funny and wonderfully silly. Musical Director and accompanist, Jim Harder, described as “shrink by day, closet Liberace by night,” added some wonderful flourishes as well!

With his imposing build, shaved head and open, expressive face, Cahill seems made for comedy—a bit like a gayer Mr. Clean with a manic smile! The problematic aspects of this show were all about the “wacky” comedy moments, which seemed forced, and not about his formidable vocal talent. To my mind, there is nothing more painful than big comedic bits that just don’t land. I’ve heard these moments described by a well known film director as “damp squibs”—a squib being a small explosive charge used to simulate bullet hits. If the gunpowder in the squib gets wet, you get a “pfft” rather than a “bang!” It seemed Cahill’s show was littered with these damp squibs.

There were two inexplicable song parodies centered around the singer’s love for his bedding—a rewritten version of Duke Ellington’s “Satin Doll,” entitled “Satin Pillowcase,” and another based on the theme song for “The Patty Duke Show”—“yes they’re pillowcases, identical pillowcases and you’ll find…” Both songs left me completely befuddled. A “dramatic reading” from The Passionate Thief, an Italian comedy starring Anna Magnani, played to confused silence, as did a visit from a drag diva named Dame Zinka. When Zinka was introduced, Cahill entered in a fabulous Turandot-style costume, complete with a chinois gown and jeweled headdress. But while the intro promised a showcase of Cahill’s operatic prowess, he simply ended up lip-syncing to songs that included Shirley Temple’s “Animal Crackers in My Soup”(I. Caesar, T. Koehler, R. Henderson) and “Misty” (E. Garner). And while a medley of “Goody Goody” (M. Malneck, J. Mercer) and the Gershwins’ “Blah, Blah, Blah” started out well enough, the latter song went off the rails, with odd variations of the word “blah,” bizarre vocal trills and a touch of “Carol of the Bells” thrown in for good measure. The problem with most of these comedy bits was that they didn’t feel connected to the show, rendering them confusing and ultimately, unfunny. It didn’t help that Cahill and Harder, laughing between themselves, left the audience out in the cold.

There were, however, numbers in the show that worked splendidly. After telling us he had been named for Timothy Mouse from Disney’s Dumbo, he gave us a lovely, heartfelt “Baby Mine” (F. Churchill, N. Washington), paired with “I’ll Be Seeing You” (S. Fain, I. Kahal). And while I didn’t get the connection between these songs, his delivery was beautiful. Cahill’s rendition of “Les Feuilles Mortes” (J. Kosma, J. Prévert), sung half in French, half in English, was equally gorgeous; both of these quieter moments featured lush, sensitive accompaniment from Harder. 

I really do like Tim Cahill and Jim Harder—there’s so much talent and personality there, it’s hard not to like them. It’s About Tim(e) has the makings of a terrific cabaret act if Cahill can find a way to connect the comedic bits to the rest of the act, so they won’t seem so random and disjointed. If he simply allows his natural humor and talent to shine through, without trying so hard to be WACKY, the comedy will come from a much truer place and really connect with the audience.