If the new social media had been available in the 1930s, Madame du Barry might have been said to be "trending up." Already a popular subject in silent movies – Theda Bara and Pola Negri had played the up-from-the-streets royal courtesan – she talked on the big screen throughout the 1930s in the forms of Norma Talmadge, Dolores del Rio, and other stars of the day. Hollywood's trend fueled a satirical Broadway response in the final musical to open in the 1930s, Du Barry Was a Lady, in which most of the characters seem to have recently seen a movie about Madame du Barry.
Back then, this bejeweled sex worker needed no introduction to theater audiences, and if du Barry's trending numbers are now down, a history lesson is not necessary to catch the drift of Du Barry Was a Lady. Actually, more a stiff wind than a drift, as noted by the critics of the day and revealed again in 42nd Street Moon's rare revival of this musical that reduced double entendres into single digits.
The revival also suggests that composer Cole Porter and librettists Herbert Fields and Buddy De Sylva did not spend an inordinate amount of time bejeweling the show, looking instead for sufficient shtick and suitable songs that could satisfy audiences who had specific expectations of stars Bert Lahr and Ethel Merman. They succeeded, and the musical ran for more than a year, but it has scarcely been heard from since.
Director-choreographer Zack Thomas Wilde's mostly crisp production at the Eureka Theatre doesn't suggest that history has been harsh to Du Barry, but it is a treat to wander down another memory lane leading to both insights into the merry-making machinery of another time and to some of the genuine pleasures that the musical holds. Those pleasures, a straight-ahead love song such as "Do I Love You?" or a scene of genuinely snappy repartee, don't always arrive where you might expect them, but who cares?
Du Barry Was a Lady was very much bespoke for its stars, and 42nd Street Moon is fortunate to have Bruce Vilanch in the role created by Bert Lahr, fresh off filming The Wizard of Oz, playing a washroom attendant in love with a nightclub star. Vilanch is a savvy performer, and gives us just enough Lahr to satisfy that part of the equation while filling in the rest with the shambling twinkle of his own personality. The story has Louie, the washroom attendant, accidentally drinking a Mickey Finn intended for a romantic rival, sending him on a journey to 18th-century France, where he dreams he is Louis XV, who hasn't completely shaken 20th-century locution. May, the showgirl of his dreams, plays Madame du Barry, who is forever fending off the king's efforts to consummate her title as first mistress of Versailles.
Ashley Rae Little has the right brassy stuff in the Merman roles of May and du Barry, but it can be hard to clearly decipher Porter's lyrics in her delivery. (After the show, I ended up looking up the lyrics to "Katie Went to Haiti" to figure out just what it was that kept Katie in Haiti until she was 80.) There is no problem in grasping the lyrics of "Well, Did You Evah?" though Nathaniel Rothrock and Nicole Renee Chapman, as a personable song-and-dance act, seem to have little idea what is behind the song's satirical poke at posh society in their uninflected delivery.
As May's true love, the already married Alex, the exquisitely groomed and golden-throated Jack Mosbacher seems to have stepped in from another musical, perhaps one starring John Raitt or Nelson Eddy, with his sincerely straight-ahead delivery of the show's big ballads. On the other side of the spectrum is Jordan Sidfield's touch of period authenticity as a wisecracking punk who becomes the spoiled brat and future Louis XVI in the fantasy scenes.
The cast gets off some pretty good dance steps in Wilde's choreography, with musical director Ben Prince providing solid onstage piano accompaniment and costume designer Felicia Lilienthal's dual-period costumes adding to the good looks of the production.
"Absence makes the heart grow antsy in the pantsy," says May, as she paraphrases Shakespeare. In the case of Du Barry Was a Lady, its absence doesn't quite reach that level, but its throwback style of fun still has some merriment for today.
Du Barry Was a Lady will run at Eureka Theatre through May 18. Tickets are $25-$75. Call 255-8207 or go to 42ndstmoon.org.