By Marilyn Lester***You’ve got a passion for singing, a desire to perform, a love of cabaret, and intention going back a dozen years or so to hone that (pun intended) craft, so, who ya gonna call? Well, the miraculous Marilyn Maye, of course. In Marci Kraft’s latest Party with Marci! cabaret offering at Don’t Tell Mama, the theme was 
Let’s Go to the Movies with Marci! Notice those exclamation points? That enthusiasm translated to the stage and it’s contagious. All that was lacking was popcorn as a delighted audience cheered on the star of the show. But first, the clock struck 7:00, and then 7:01; where was Marci? Instead, the White Rabbit, looking just like her, entered singing “I’m late, I’m late. For a very important date. No time to say hello, goodbye. I’m late, I’m late, I’m late, I’m late!” (Bob Hilliard, Sammy Fain: Alice in Wonderland).
And we were off to the movies with the first of several medleys, a Maye trademark that suits Kraft down to the ground: first, the legendary and iconic (deserving of those terms) “Hooray for Hollywood” (Johnny Mercer, Richard Whiting), “That’s Entertainment” (Howard Dietz, Arthur Schwartz) and the quintessential “Just Go to the Movies” (Jerry Herman)—delivered with polish and intention. But perhaps a secret weapon was at work? Kraft may not have had life training in musi
c or theater but she has a valuable day job: she’s an attorney. And that tool kit is chock full of items that work perfectly for cabaret: poise, preparation and attention to detail, not to mention that in courtroom practice, a key item on the docket is facing an audience called the jury. Well, the jury at Don’t Tell Mama brought in a verdict of thumbs way up.
There was a time—call it a Golden Age, or even an Age of Innocence—when movies truly delighted and entertained and so often offered sheer pleasure and delight, sans superheroes, gore, convoluted storylines and other detractions from telling a good, uplifting story. Happiness was and is a specialty of the Walt Disney organization, and that’s precisely where the next medley took us. From 1940: who hasn’t been thrilled hearing Jiminy Cricket sing “When You Wish Upon a Star” (Leigh Harline, Ned Washington) to Pinocchio in the eponymous movie. To: 2017’s charming CoCo and “Remember Me” (Kristen-Andrson-Lopez, Robert Lopez).
In 1967 there was the Disney-esque film and its Academy Award-winning song, “Talk to the Animals” (Leslie Bricusse), which conjured the vocal originator of the tune, Rex Harrison. Harrison, a dramatic actor, in a late-ca
reer move, won a 1956 Tony Award for Best Actor in a Musical as Professor Henry Higgins in My Fair Lady, and then a 1964 Academy Award for Best Actor for the film adaptation. Like Sir Rex, Kraft’s vocal tone and range is best showcased in a semi-parlando singing style, which gives her freedom to concentrate on lyric interpretation and dramatic (or comedic) phrasing with plenty of defining movement.
Film star Fred Astaire, especially notable for 1930s and 40s musicals, was a dancer who could sing, and who also offered plenty of charisma. His joyful movies introduced a raft of Songbook standards, written by the crème de la crème of songwriters. Kraft offered a swingy “Steppin’ Out with My Baby” (Irving Berlin) and “The Way You Look Tonight” (Jerome Kern, Dorothy Fields), in what record labels of the day called a “Fox Trot” tempo, plus an appropriately-arranged samba-esque “Carioca” (Edward Eliscu, Vincent Youmans), among others. A short Rat Pack medley brought joy with a tune that’s forever linked
to the great Sammy Davis, Jr., the uptemoo “The Candy Man” (Bricusse, Anthony Newley). But for a huge dollop of maximum happiness, there was the beloved Sidney Myer, who dueted with Kraft on “How About You” (Ralph Freed, Burton Lane) and a sing-along “White Christmas” (Irving Berlin).
Kraft ended with a heartfelt “How Lucky Can You Get” (John Kander, Fred Ebb) and the final (no false encore) “It Might Be You” (Dave Grusin, Alan and Marilyn Bergman), dedicated to her audience. Team Kraft, aside from the canny direction of Maye, who also provided special lyrics along the way, consisted of four first-call musicians who all had superb spotlight moments. For time-keeping and the beat there were bassist Tom Hubbard and drummer Daniel Glass, and for spice, guitarist Jack Cavari. Music director, pianist David Pearl, created arrangements (with some Maye suggestions) that were creative and perfectly suited to Kraft’s vocal abilities. The final verdict: with clear, direct narrative, animated presentation and a keen facility for audience engagement, Kraft received a life sentence of more shows in cabaret community service.
Photos by Merrill Stone and Susie Clausen
