More nightclub show than theater, My Way: A Musical Tribute to Frank Sinatra is two hours of pure entertainment. There are no big thoughts to think, no complex plot to follow. Just a slew of great songs, sung by four talented performers, accompanied by two terrific musicians, with a bar in the lobby and a vaguely loungey atmosphere in the audience seating. What's not to enjoy?
When asked what the key to his success was, Ol' Blue Eyes replied, "Sing good songs." Sinatra recorded 1,300 - most of them better than good. Although the My Way cast members pay tribute to the famous style - the rakish hat, the jacket slung over a shoulder - they don't try to imitate him. Fran Prisco directs with a sure sense of how to create glitzy show biz on the small stage of the Walnut's Independence Studio on 3.
The four singers are appealingly different types. Prisco is the white guy: A short, suave (this should probably be pronounced "swayve") pro who can make his lines sound like effortless ad libs and knows how to belt out a song. Carl Clemons-Hopkins is the black guy: Young, very tall (there's a running gag about the height of the mike), with a smooth, sexy style.
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