Review:
Charmed by Channing at Proctor's
Judith White, For The Saratogian 03/28/2006
Schenectady - Carol Channing sang
those lines more than 5,000 times as Dolly Levi in the original Broadway and
touring productions of "Hello, Dolly!" but the lyrics have never seemed more
appropriate than on Sunday at Proctor's Theatre, when the 85-year old
entertainer delivered the song yet again in her one-of-a-kind voice.
An icon of stage, screen and television, the "old girl" was in remarkable
form in Schenectady, performing her 90-minute, one-woman show, "The First 80
Years Are the Hardest: The Carol Channing Experience."
The show earned Channing a Back Stage Bistro Award for her engagement
last fall at Feinstein's at the Regency in New York.
The Proctor's event also gave Channing and her husband of three years,
Harry Kullijian, the opportunity to plug their recently launched Dr. Carol
Channing Endowment for the Arts, a major effort begun after the entertainer
was awarded an honorary doctor of fine arts degree in 2004 from California
Sate University Stanislaus. Diamonds may be a girl's best friend, but the
arts' new best friends are Dr. Channing and her charming new husband - who
actually was her "steady" beau when the pair were still in junior high.
(The pair hadn't seen each other for 70 years after that youthful
romance, until he learned she had written about him in her published
memoir.)
"I thought she was dead," he confessed to the audience during his cameo
appearance on the stage Sunday. "I thought HE was dead; he's a year older,"
Channing deadpanned, topping him.
Channing also will receive the National Humor Treasure Award from the
Humor Project, headed by Saratoga's Joel Goodman. At Proctor's on Sunday,
Channing greeted a nearly full-house audience wearing her signature,
singular wide smile, accessorized with a red silk, rhinestone-buttoned
pantsuit. Gone are the batty false eyelashes and bouffant platinum hairstyle
that marked her "dumb blonde" image of the 1960s and '70s, replaced by a
lovely white-haired, wide-eyed, classy lady.
She no longer wears gowns slit to the top of her thighs, but her
fabulous, slim-hipped figure still gives evidence that Channing was - and
still is - a talented dancer.
Channing's show included stories of her career spiked with right-on
impressions of the big-name stars with whom she's shared a stage.
Her own voice and style may be among the most popular for comedians to
mimic, but she can trade that distinctive voice of her own to belt out a
mean "Some of These Days" a la Sophie Tucker, or to offer a perfect Tallulah
Bankhead laugh tinged with lunacy. Ethel Merman barking out orders, a
long-toothed Brit who swallowed his words, and a would-be starlet whistling
through every whisper of the letter "s" were among the old friends she
brought to life.
Mining her own legendary Broadway roles, Channing hushed the audience
with Dolly Levi's soul-strengthening soliloquy and sang "Before the Parade
Passes By," both from Jerry Herman's "Hello, Dolly!"
Incredible diction, great delivery and understated gestures and movements
show Channing's expertise now, as throughout her career.
A single, tiny pelvic thrust told all that was needed about that
not-entirely-sweet Lorelei Lee as Channing sang "Little Girl from Little
Rock," and just a few small gestures seemed to dress the singer in jewels
and furs during "Diamonds are a Girl's Best Friend." Both tunes are from
Channing's first Broadway hit, "Gentlemen Prefer Blondes" (Styne, Robin).
Understatement and timing were Channing's tools in this performance,
along with wide-eyed, blank looks that stood as perfect statements, and she
used them masterfully. Video clips from her films and televisions specials
were shown before the live performance, and attested to Channing's classy
ability to sell via suggestion, rather than resorting sexual nuance or
slapstick.
And here on Sunday it was the same: minute shoulder movements were all
the shimmy this octogenarian needed to give the appropriate jazz-age
attitude to her encore number, "Razzle Dazzle," and a simple soft-shoe
routine with her new husband sent her off the stage - a classy, warm closing
by a classy ageless talent.