Lainie Kazan

October 8, 2010

Feinstein’s at Loews Regency  –  October 5 – 9

She’s a red hot mama and she’s not ready to cool down just yet. That much Lainie Kazan proved to an appreciative first night audience on her return to Feinstein’s. With sharp timing, aggressive delivery, and an earthy sense of humor, Kazan delivers some of her landmark standards. Reaching into the audience, she includes trademark Mae West one-liners, “I used to be Snow White, but I drifted,” with a drumbeat and a sassy one-two swish of her scarf. Another signature salute goes to one of her idols, Sophie Tucker, with a declarative, “I’m Living Alone and I Like It.”

Lainie Kazan is one of the born-in-Brooklyn entertainment legends, and those roots show with a street-wise honesty that comes across with passion, emotion, and brusqueness. Yet you can also sense the vulnerability of been-there, done-that, knocked-around know-how. These qualities are illustrated through her songs, which Kazan puts out with gusto, delivering strong stories from inside out. Introductory patter about her early life and a stage mother who wanted to be a ballerina become a deft lead-in to a laid-back, bluesy rendition of Billy Joel’s “New York State of Mind.”

Although the voice is still resonant with robust deep tones, her upper register is thin. Nevertheless, she belts her theatre favorites, seemingly with abandon. The octane is high for “The Trolley Song” (Hugh Martin and Ralph Blane) during another salute, this time to Judy Garland, (“Buzz, buzz, buzz went the buzzah”), and from Funny Girl, “Don’t Rain On My Parade” (Jule Styne, Bob Merrill).

On opening night it took her a while to get that mojo working, but when Kazan delivered her scorch songs, like “The Music That Makes Me Dance,” also from Funny Girl, the show that jumpstarted her career, her emotion was on high heat. She communicates on a visceral level Fanny Brice, the comic genius who is “…better on stage than at intermission” and not much of a star when it comes to men. “The Man That Got Away” (Harold Arlen and Ira Gershwin), another Kazan standard, possibly refers to her on-again, off-again marriage to the late Peter Daniels, who guided her career, although living together was difficult. As she traditionally does, she ends her show with a gentle nod to Daniels, “I Remember You” (Johnny Mercer, Victor Schertzinger), with the key line “You’re the one who made/ My dreams come true.”

Kazan is backed by her tight energetic trio, Bob Kaye on piano, Lew Scott on bass, and her longtime drummer, Eddie Caccavale.

While at her opening she occasionally had to refer to the lyrics, one glance usually got her back on track—except when she lost her place and pages got scattered over the piano. A burst of “*#@%,” but that’s vintage Lainie. Draped in stunning but weighty bronze sequins, Kazan was sizzling and not only from the high-throttle tunes, but from the stage lights. She asked for more air conditioning and more water, and although someone did come forward with a bottle of water, it never reached Kazan. She finally quipped, “Next show, I’m wearing a chiffon slip.”

On stage, Lainie Kazan is high octane and larger than life, personality-plus and legendary show-biz. Love her or leave her, she’s part of a long tradition that is there to entertain you. She’s determined to give you a show and give it her all. That’s something to respect.

 


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