MOESSTEAL THESHOW
‘ Five Guys Named Moe’ supplies hilarious romantic advice at Court
It begins with an ordinary guy, nursing his blues while singing “Early in theMorning,” a song that lets us know he is lovesick and clueless and was recently dumped by his girlfriend.
The guy, named Nomax, also happens to be seated beside a giant console radio that instantly signals we are in the Swing Era, and that the overall tempo of life will shift into a spirit of wildly infectious optimism. And so it does, as “Five Guys Named Moe” lights up the stage of the Court Theatre with this irresistibly joyful, downright hilarious, all too rarely revived 1990musical devised by Clarke Peters and featuring the wonderfully antic songs of Louis Jordan, the saxophonist/ songwriter/ bandleader whowas so popular fromthe late 1930s to the early 1950s that he was dubbed “The King of the Jukebox.” ( The show’s two- dozen- strong song list also includes gems by Jon Hendricks, Johnny Burke and Jimmy Van Heusen and many others.)
The very definition of pure, unadulterated theatrical fun, “Five Guys” leaves the audience in a palpable state of elation. And the Court production— directed with droll, giddy- making exuberance by Ron OJ Parson, driven by the superbmusic direction of Abdul Hamid Royal ( with help from such mega- talents as Felicia P. Fields, Jeremy Ramey and choreographer Christopher Carter, whose zany dance sequences have a language all their own)— is nothing less than an instant mood enhancer.
Of course I’ve saved the best for last. The “five guys” of the title are a well- practiced cabaret act who have little patience with the selfpitying Nomax ( well- played by Stephen “Blu’’ Allen) and subject him to a not- so- sentimental education in sex and romance. The actors at Court are absolutely phenomenal and have the audience in stitches fromthe moment they clamber out of that console radio and proceed to teach this lost soul some crucial lessons about dealing with the opposite sex.
The “Moes,” who come in every size, shape and disposition, are spectacular singers, dancers and comedians and possess the sort of firecracker energy that makes you hope there is an oxygenmachine in the wings. They include: BigMoe ( Lorenzo Rush Jr., a giant of a fellow who is as graceful as Nijinsky); Eat Moe ( James Earl Jones II, the man of compelling appetite whose mad dancemoves bring the house down); Four EyedMoe ( Kelvin Roston Jr., the bespectacled fellow with the crooning voice); the fleet charmer LittleMoe ( Darrian Ford); and NoMoe ( Eric A. Lewis, a crackerjack dancer with a sassy edge and gaspinducing splits).
These five genius performers harmonize as if they’ve been singing together for years, and they play off each others’ mischievous ways with uncanny timing, bringing the undeniable hipster vibe of Jordan’s brilliant lyrics and impossibly catchy rhythms ( fromjazz to calypso) to vivid life. Jordan has been credited with paving the way for jazz to morph into rock and roll, and his clever, satirical lyrics can now sound like a forerunner of hip- hop. But take these great comic patter songs ( and ballads) for what they are, and for how they also bring tomind the work of FatsWaller, who was celebrated in a similar sort ofmusical/ revue, “Ain’t Misbehavin’.”
And yes, the first half of the show suggests the deceptions and traps women can set formen ( in such songs as “Beware, Brother, Beware,” “Pettin’ and Pokin’,” “Safe, Sane & Single,” and the affectionate “I Like ’ em Fat Like That”), but the second act gives equal time to male deception and chicanery.
And did I mention “Push Ka Pi Shi Pie,” a calypso sing- along and conga line that leads the crowd into the lobby at intermission? Or “Caldonia,” which asks: “What makes your big head so hard?” Trust me, you just have to be there.