New York is reveling in two of the best cabaret shows I have ever seen. One is Lyrical Linguists from London, starring Ellen Verenieks and Frank Loman at Don't Tell Mama, 343 West 46th Street, again on October 5 at 7:00 PM -- and I expect time and time again there and in much bigger venues. The other was Canadian concert star Gregory Charles at the Cafe Carlyle in the Hotel Carlyle, 35 East 76th Street.

 

First the Lyrical Linguists. It would be hard to imagine a more joyous show springing from the tremendous zest and spirit of Verenieks and Loman.  Verenieks, who was born in Canada but become a star on the London stage ("Follies," "Little Shop of Horrors," among many others) is as stunning a singer as she is look at.  Loman, who was born and raised in Germany, made his West End debut in "Les Miserables" is thrilling to watch extend himself as a performer with artistry and infectious relish.

 

About Verenieks, indielondon.co.uk raved: "Blessed with natural comic timing, with a crystal-clear voice to match. Her ability to turn every song into a complete story is masterful."

 

About Loman, QX Magazine, London, said "The only way you'd find out more about this guy's inner feelings is if you watch him having open heart surgery."

 

With New York Cabaret and theater great Michael Ferreri on piano, Verenieks and Loman start out the evening with a song by Brett Kahr called "Dangerous Cabaret," a song with sets the tone for their entire show. "This song defines what cabaret is all about or should be," Loman said in the program notes. In other words, stretching way beyond the usual, beyond the funny, beyond the poignant, beyond even the sonorous artistry of their voices into an "undiscovered country" of cabaret that leaves the audience quite breathless.  Loman's thoughts in the program notes on John Bucchino's song "If I Ever Say I'm Over You," which Loman sings, comes closest to this other worldly yet very earthly emotional rainbow: "How much can we betray our own feelings in believing that we are over someone who we were truly in love with? No matter how much we are trying to convince ourselves that we are better it rarely is true. That is what this song is about and that is why I love it so much."

 

Verenieks achieves the same kind of magical and enchanting volatility with some of the simplest lyrics in "I Never Learned To Type" by Charles Miller and Kevin Hammonds. At the same time, she not only gets laughs in all the right places and leaves you emotionally drained by desperately wanting something we all have wanted as we get older, the longed for success that has never materialized.  Nothing will dim my memory of the pathos just under the surface in her terrifyingly simple closing line, which is also the title of the song, when she matter-of-factly says, rather than sings, "I Never Learned To Type."

 

But just when you think their roller-coaster emotions can't get any more "dangerous" these brilliant show people acrobatically change the pace and mood to just plain fun. Her rendition of  the Cy Coleman/Dorothy Fields song "Pink Taffeta Sample Dress Size 10" is a joyous look back at childhood while her singing of  "Is There A Straight Man in the House," by R. Crom is hugely funny.  Loman, too, effortlessly switches gears with such songs as "Satellite," by Julie Frost and John Gordon. it is a funny version of the of the "dependant victim love song," Loman says and spotlights his genuine understated comic agility. And in "Move on," by Stephen Sondheim -- which Loman sings with Verenieks -- is a song of hope and renewal, of looking forward without any malice or dejection for wrongs or "rights" of the past.

 

And speaking of looking forward, I can think of no greater show to look forward to than "Lyrical Linguists from London" -- with the possible exception of
Gregory Charles.





 

Gregory Charles' recent show at the Cafe Carlyle is just about the most entertaining evening I've ever spent. I hope and pray he will be back time and time again. It's not hyperbole to say its better than anything on Broadway -- with the exception of Cole Porter's "Anything Goes." The celebrated Canadian recording artist -- whose 43-run show at Montreal's Bell Centre sold more than 750,000 tickets -- ingeniously reflected to the tastes and temperament of  his audience. In the show I caught he only did one number of his remarkable 14,000 song repertoire from the 1930's - Cole Porter's "Night and Day." That was my request, out of a hat, or more accurately I believe, out of a box. Most were from the 1970's and later. Yet all reflected his boyish enthusiasm and buoyant charm.

 

"It's cool to be black, so way not say it ... it's fun to be happy, so why not talk about it," the black entertainer told  the Journal De Montreal in an interview. "And damn it, that's the kind of guy I am -- 'lucky and fortunate' in my life. Oh yes, I love my parents and my parents love me more than anything in the world. Why not should it out loud, or even sing about it from the stage!" 

 

Charles' father, who is black, once "had to fight his way into a theatre in San Francisco," Charles said in the same Canadian newspaper interview. "The world has changed and for the better. My mother is white and my father is black .. I am a remarkable mix of the two cultures and I want to tell everyone with words and music that it is fun to be black..."

 

My only gripe with the priceless evening was it was too short. I really wanted to stay for the second show. Accompanying himself on piano, Charles was joined by Jean-Bertrand Carbou on bass, Samuel Joly on drums, and Jean-Benoit Lasante on guitar.

 

Charles has presented his show at the historic Winter Garden Theatre in Toronto. One can only hope that if "Mama Mia" ever vacates the equally historic Winter Garden in Manhattan, where the one and only Al Jolson once played, Gregory Charles may play there.