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Back Where She Belongs: Carol Channing Reminisces
By Margo Jefferson

Review
November 8, 2003, Saturday
One singular sensation Ev'ry little step she takes One thrilling
combination Ev'ry move that she makes. From ''A Chorus Line''
She walks onto the stage in a silver mini dress with sequins the size of
quarters and shoes to match. That hair, which could be a cap of feathers or
a silky bird's nest, has been blond for years. Now it is a pale silvery
gray.
Carol Channing has been in show business for about 60 years. Her
appearance in the Singular Sensations series, at the appealingly small
Village Theater through tomorrow, is a conversation about those years. They
were among the best in musical theater. (On her first visit to the William
Morris Agency, she sat in the waiting room with Betty Comden and Adolph
Green on one side and Alfred Drake on the other.)
People think of Ms. Channing as the ''Hello, Dolly!'' archetype, or as a
cartoon who might have come to Ralph Barton or Al Hirschfeld in a dream. But
she began with multiple personalities; in a 1940's revue by Marc Blitzstein
she brought those of Ethel Merman, Beatrice Lillie, Sophie Tucker and
Gertrude Lawrence to one song. She played a French movie star and a British
Christian Scientist in a second revue, ''Lend an Ear,'' directed by Gower
Champion. (They were reunited in 1964 for ''Hello, Dolly!'') But her parody
of a 1920's flapper in ''Lend an Ear'' led her to stardom. In 1949 she
opened on Broadway in ''Gentlemen Prefer Blondes,'' playing Lorelei Lee, the
grammar-splitting gold digger from Little Rock, Ark., whose wide-eyed
cunning hides a robber baron's business methods.
''This is my 'Battle Hymn of the Republic,' '' Ms. Channing announced
before singing Lorelei's anthem, ''Diamonds Are a Girl's Best Friend.'' Part
of Ms. Channing's brilliance depends on her enunciation. She handles each
vowel, each consonant, each syllable with the care and relentless glee
Lorelei bestows on diamonds.
The audience jumped to its feet more than once. We were watching a master
performer. At 83 she contains her effects, but still has more to give than
most performers half her age or younger.
In the ''Singular Sensations'' series, between now and early February,
musical theater figures (Donna McKechnie, Betty Buckley, Kitty Carlisle Hart
and Cy Coleman among them) will talk about their lives and times with Glen
Rovon, the host and musical director. He is cordial without fawning or
intruding.
The simple format is attractive. The performers should be good
storytellers, though, and Ms. Channing is. Part of it is timing, and part is
content. The timing enhances the tale of how a teenage Carol learned a song
phonetically (and gesture by gesture) from a performer in the high-style
Russian revue ''Chauve-Souris.''
Her cheery nonstop patter is meant to deceive. After all, this is the
woman Blitzstein called ''a satirical chanteuse.'' The story of her first
appearance at the celebrated CafÈ Society Uptown feels like show biz
chitchat until the club owner insists that Carol get a bodyguard. ''And,
well, a bodyguard functions as a husband, as Patty Hearst will tell you,''
she says with no break in tone or rhythm. The audience hoots with laughter,
and she looks a bit concerned at the outburst, then goes on politely as if
nothing had happened. ''And so I fell madly in love with mine,'' a
gun-toting black man named Stanley.
How did she fall in love with the theater? She was an only child who
invented playmates by imitating everyone she knew. There are hilarious
stories, with imitations, about Merman, Tucker and Ann Miller. She sings her
signature numbers from ''Hello, Dolly!'' She also does a version of ''Razzle
Dazzle'' from ''Chicago'' that (even though she was still learning it the
night I was there) should be filmed and put right into the movie as a deluxe
dream sequence.
Everything's there: the cynicism and charisma, the slow buildup, chorus
after chorus, which a performer needs to handle as carefully as conductors
handle Ravel's ''Bolero'': some suave shimmies, a strut, a few percussive
kicks and a touch of the Black Bottom.
On top of all this Ms. Channing is very smart. I found myself thinking
that someone should have given this woman a talk show years ago. No one did,
so let's hope she just goes on talking -- and singing -- anytime, anyplace
and everywhere.
Published: November 8, 2003 , Late Edition - Final
, Section B , Column 5 , Page 14
Copyright 2004 The New York Times Company
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