REVIEW: Million Dollar Quartet a superb show from the supergroup that never was
On December 4, 1956, four great rockabilly artists met in Sam Phillips’ primitive Sun Recording Studios in Memphis.
Two of the four, Carl Perkins and Jerry Lee Lewis, were there laying down a recording under Phillips’ direction. Johnny Cash dropped in, as did Elvis, who by that time was becoming one of the top acts in the world. On that fabled afternoon they did what most musicians do when they get together – they jammed. Phillips slapped a tape on his machine. It’s not much of a tape. The recording is awful and some of the songs don’t end – they just peter out. But there’s no doubting the electricity in that room as four young, aggressive boys, struggling to define themselves, hung out just for the pleasure of making music together. They did share one thing – an immense musical talent.
Out of this true one-time-only event came the unstoppable musical hit Million Dollar Quartet. The show was put together in 2010 by Colin Escott and Floyd Mutrux, two old pros at assembling these kinds of clip-and paste jukebox musicals. They gussied things up and created a barn burner of a theatrical production.
This sort of event is red meat to the Mayfield Dinner Theatre production unit: Including a smokin’ band, a cast of potent performers that not only play their own instruments but crawl into some mighty big personas, and a director (Van Wilmott – assisted by Gerrard Everard) who really understands the dynamics of the event. The show runs until Oct. 27.
The story is not exactly the way it was (Cash just dropped by and left early) but it really doesn’t make much difference. The unspoken stresses in that tiny studio are investigated and woven into that long afternoon, mostly voiced by Phillips (the genial Leon Willey). His narration keeps the subtext bubbling away.
”I found a white boy who could sing negro spirituals,” he burbles, explaining Elvis’ early success.
Cash (Devon Brayne), who had a couple of hits under his belt, was there to tell Phillips he’d just signed with the behemoth Columbia Records and was leaving Sun. Perkins (Tyler Check) was mad at Elvis for purloining his minor hit, Blue Suede Shoes, and spinning it into a blockbuster. Perkins was suspicious of Phillips’ ability to turn out another hit for him. Elvis (Matt Cage) himself was just off a ruinous run in Las Vegas. The feral piano player Jerry Lee Lewis (Jefferson McDonald) was just getting started, and pushing to get his demented piano-demolishing style displayed. Even owner Sam Phillips was considering an offer to join Elvis at RCA. In fact, though none of them knew it, that afternoon signalled the beginning of the end for Sun Records.
But that was in the future and Million Dollar Quartet is at its best when it gets down and dirty to present a rollicking, joyous, sweet and soulful celebration of the times when rock was young and giants walked the earth.
Songs include the hits – Blue Suede Shoes, Great Balls Of Fire, Hound Dog, I Walk The Line, That’s All Right, Ghost Riders in the Sky and a sprinkling of hymns (Peace in the Valley, Down by the Riverside) that only a quartet of good ole blue-eyed boys raised by God-fearing folks could serve up.
Carl Perkins was a wizard guitar picker (the Beatles give him full credit for being an influence) – and Tyler Check seems his match. Cage, as did Elvis, combines youthful innocence, a carnal life force and a hint of something dangerous in much the same way as the star did at that age. Brayne nails the essence of Cash. He’s got the singer’s early black pompadour hair, the courtly manner of a southern country gentlemen, and the slow, sly, crooked smile that would spread across the entertainer’s face. And he’s got the pipes – especially in his soulful low register. In a company of equals, McDonald’s Jerry Lee is a non-stop, motormouthed walking example of Freud’s “id,” with a barely-controlled psychic drive for immediate gratification.
If the rest of the evening tends to the serious, even pompous, McDonald keeps sticking pins into balloons. And man, how he can attack that piano. They always said they had to tune a piano after a Jerry Lee concert (in some cases they had to rebuild the instrument). The same might be said for this manic virtuoso.
The group is joined by Elvis’ latest girlfriend, Dyanne (Alicia Barban), who sings a couple of songs (including Fever) and is particularly impressive in an ethereal high obbligato accompaniment to Brayne singing Ghost Riders in the Sky.
The performers are ably supported by Evan Stewart on Bass and Brendan Lyons on drums.
The evening is just superb – and you don’t have to be a country fan either. The two hour hootenanny comes at you with such toe tappin’, knee slappin’ horsepower that you will be swept along – no matter what your musical preference.
Photos by Ed Ellis
