All this ... and Spam too!

You know it's going to be a unique evening when the first thing you get is a can of spam.

Let me explain. I attended a theater revue recently. The performance, by the Marblehead Little Theatre (I love how all community theaters use the British spelling) to raise money for its production, later this summer of "Spamalot." They called it "A Knight of Music," with the pun intended. One wonders why they didn't go all the way and call it "A Little Knight Music," thereby giving Stephen Sondheim a shoutout too, but that's a different topic.

With Sondheim having achieved octogenarian status a couple of years ago, it's time for the tributes to start mounting. Don't worry, though, Mr. Sondheim was well represented in this show, too, with songs from "The Frogs," "Anyone Can Whistle," and "Company" among those performed.

People always look at me funny when I tell them I'm a theater aficionado. How, they wonder, could a sportswriter who spends his professional days and nights writing about barbaric sports such as football possibly switch gears and savor musical theater. Believe me, it's possible. I remember as a kid being totally enthralled by "My Fair Lady." My parents had the soundtrack, and I used to listen to it endlessly. And I still consider "With A Little Bit Of Luck" one of my all-time favorites.

Then came "Fiddler on the Roof," because my uncle played the soundtrack once while we were visiting him. I loved it from the outset (and still do).

It all fell into place in rapid succession, and by the time I was out of high school, not only was I into musical theater, but equally fixated on classical music. This doesn't exclude my generation's soundtrack, either, as I love rock 'n' roll as much as Joan Jett does.

But there's something about amateur theater that just appeals to me. It's not Ethel Merman or Hugh Jackman up there. They're people like me. Maybe they had dreams at one point of doing this professionally. Maybe some still do. But they're up there singing (and at times dancing) because they grew up loving music and loving theater. Let's just say I can relate.

I never had dreams of being the next Gordon McRae, but I could have stood being the next Beethoven (if I could play the piano the way he did, perhaps), or Billy Joel. I may write sports for a living, but music has always been passion No. 1 for me.

Writing's a lot like music, actually. It's easier to convey the message, perhaps, but the good writers are doing more than just putting words together. They do so in hopes of leaving a profound impact long after the words have ceased. Read the last couple of pages of "The Great Gatsby" and you'll understand. In three, maybe four, sentences F. Scott Fitzgerald diagnoses society's problems not just in the 1920s but for all-time. There's a reason the book is considered a classic.

Good theater is like good writing. It takes concepts, builds tunes, lyrics, dancing and -- if it's done well -- leaves you with a profound visceral impression when it's over. The first time I saw "A Chorus Line" we left the Shubert in New York literally singing the song "One" all the way up Broadway. Got some funny looks, but we didn't care. The play was that good (though truth be told, "At the Ballet" is a much more gut-wrenching song that really leaves you stunned for a few minutes once it ends).

So when I got the invite to attend this revue, I was interested. I've been up there once or twice in my life under the same circumstances. I know the rush. Call it my inner ham. Anyone who performs knows what it's like to hear applause ... and to actually live for the validation of  your talents. When I was younger, I used to play the piano and the guitar at cookouts and other gatherings, and loved the attention. So I get it ... at all levels.

I spent enough time with the Theatre Company of Saugus to have -- in my head -- profiled every one of the performers who sang at the MLT production. I don't mean that in a bad way. I just mean that we're all pretty much the same. We all have jobs, but music and performing are our primary affectations ... and they are intense affectations.

The evening got off to a fine start with "Invocation and Instructions to the Audience," a Sondheim gem from "The Frogs." It's a bitingly clever list of do's and don'ts (mostly don'ts) that delineates the bad habits of every annoying person you've ever sat behind, in front of, or next to. Included is this nugget, "please, don't fart, there's very little air and this is art ..."

David Scannell, who's been around the community theater scene forever (I remember seeing him about 30 years ago, when we were both much younger), kept up with the Sondheim with "Anyone can Whistle." I have to admit that I don't enjoy all of Sondheim's material (for example, I wouldn't walk across the street to see "Sweeney Todd") but the ones that hit are usually dead on. And this song is one of them.

No Broadway revue in the 21st century would be complete without "Les Mis," and the company did three songs from the play: the very haunting "Bring Him Home, beautifully done by Matthew Ford; " Bobby Kerrigan's version of "Javert's Suicide" with its rather dramatic ending, and Kathy Downey's "I Dreamed a Dream." All were wonderful.

The Peter Mills song "Highway Miles," performed by Alex Grover, is one I hadn't heard. But I have to say I liked it very much. And its rather upbeat tempo was a nice infusion after the trio of intense "Les Miserables" songs. Call it good pacing as much as anything else.

Julie Schoenthal brought the house down, though, with "Alto's Lament," which isn't actually from a show. It's one of those jokey "Forbidden Broadway"-types songs that makes the rounds every so often when Christine Pedi (who has been in a lot of those shows) is hosting on the Broadway XM channel. Since my usual role in any community theater has been "chorus," I could easily relate. Because I'm a tenor (and a high tenor at that) I got to sing all the high harmony in "Pippin," and, to this day, can sing all the "Morning Glow" parts -- and hit the high notes too! The best part of the song is when she sings the echos in "I Feel Pretty."

Ending the first  half was "The Song That Goes Like This," which is from "Spamalot." It wonderfully lampoons every production number ever sung by a man and woman on a Broadway stage, up to and including the change in keys. It has Eric Idle written all over it, and Chris King and Leigh Barrett did it justice.

We went right from Monty Python to the Full Monty to open the second half, with a side-splitting rendition of "Big Ass Rock," with the Brothers Grover (Alex and Owen), along with Cameron Cronin. Very funny.

Then, more Sondheim with "Marry Me A Little" from "Company." This happens to be my favorite show of Sondheim's. There's not a bad song in the lot. I don't know why this never got more recognition than it did. I only wish someone in the cast had taken on Elaine Stritch and done "Here's to the Ladies who Lunch." No matter, though. Anything from "Company" is fine with me.

Barrett tackled Scott Evan Davis' "He's Perfect," another song I hadn't heard. It's a very difficult song to sing (you could call it "Sondheim-esque), but she did it very well. The guitars took over for the next three songs as the evening got into a kind of folky groove with "Poison and Wine," by Joy Williams and John Paul White (The Civil Wars), performed by Amy Strong and Jared Walsh; "Those you've Known" (from "Spring Awakening), sung by Michael Levesque, Strong and Alan Yannone), and "Second Nature," by -- I believe -- Destiny's Child (sung by Lavesque). They're all nice songs and they re-enforce my faith that kids who could be my grandchildren (almost) still have the taste and love of good music to perform it the way they did.

If there's a Sondheim, there has to be a Schwartz. He's hot too. He cleaned up on "Wicked" and is enjoying a marvelously successful rebirth of "Pippin." But never forget his other classic, "Godspell," which the MLT is doing this fall. The play is a whimsical version of St. Matthew's Gospel, but it takes a very serious turn with "By My Side," a beautiful song sung well by Trudi Olivetti and Sarah Sandlebeck Ernst.

This brings us to the conclusion. The MLT is currently putting on "Next to Normal," a rock musical that deals with such lively subjects (!) as bipolar disorder and coping with the death of a child. The three songs that concluded the show "I'm Alive," sung by Yannone, which is rather difficult to put into context in a short sentence or two if you don't know the dynamics of the show; "I Miss the Mountains," which details the bipolar patient's realization that she's over-medicated to the point where she can't feel anything (excellently done by Becky Ruccio) and "Lights," which ends both the play and the revue. For this, the cast members of the "Next to Normal" production were on stage, and were great.

As I've said, watching any amateur theatre production brings me back to the day when I did it. It was a brief time, but I enjoyed it so much. And it made me remember one of the most knowledgeable and demanding directors I've ever known, Nancy Lemoine, who staged our Saugus production of "Pippin"' in 1982. She died last month ... only 55 ... of cancer, and my only regret is not having worked with her more. You see, I never stuck with it.

I only hope that the young kids who were up there last night, living the dream (in whatever from the dream takes) don't repeat that mistake. Stay with it.

Oh, and about the Spam. Before the show begain, co-producer Judy Wayne asked a bunch of "Spamalot" trivia questions. I got one right (Tim Curry starred in the original production). We all got prizes for answering the questions correctly. We got spammed. Literally.