Three brilliant, vital Americans were lost to assassins during those years; women and blacks surged to new freedoms and new heights, and not before time, either. The phrases ‘flower power’ and ‘rock and roll’ were added to the world’s vocabularies. Oh, what a time it was! Oops. Wrong group.
If I’m not mistaken, this was also the time that ‘therapy’ became a part of nearly everyone’s lives. So, it’s only fitting that the ‘nearly true story of The Mamas and The Papas should be a blend of all these things. The therapy, however, is that of Papa Doherty, who freely confesses all he remembers of the group. Well, nearly all. At times, he remains a gentleman, and avoids total disclosure.
Born in his father’s tuba, he says—and shows us the pictures to prove it!—in Halifax, Nova Scotia, Doherty was drawn to music naturally, and since that was the era of folk music, he started there, quickly gravitating to the main scene—Greenwich Village. Against a huge screen that constantly shifts from still photography to film clips, sometimes out of focus (on purpose?) he tells the story, in words and not quite twenty songs.
Cass Elliot—Mama Cass—was the big talent in the bunch, but even she wasn’t strong enough to keep them all together. Doherty, John and Michelle Phillips and even Cass, didn’t know how to handle the sudden fame that was to drive them apart, irreparably just three short years after they first came together. It’s a disjointed effort, but enjoyable nonetheless. It also is not over-amplified, so your ears don’t take a beating. Every now and then, Doherty picks up his guitar and accompanies himself. You’ll be happy to know that in spite of all the Crown Royal he used to lubricate his pipes, he can still sing.
An on-stage band accompanies him, and occasionally, one or more of them move out front, demonstrating individual talent while moving the story along a bit more. Keyboard player Doris Mason is excellent in the Mama Cass role. Although she’s physically smaller, her voice is plenty big enough. She swings! Lisa MacIsaac fiddles and sings as Mama Michelle, her long straight hair swaying gently as she sings. She really looks the part. Graham Shaw and David Smyth have previously traveled with the show, while Kip Reed is a more recent addition. Cleveland drummer Bill Ransom generates his own brand of excitement—and lots of it!
Collaborating with playwright Paul Ledoux, Doherty started working on Dream a Little Dream about 10 years ago and has since performed it a couple of times, shaping, changing, adding to or deleting as he goes. Director Randal Myler keeps it all moving along smartly, although he wasn’t involved in the creativity portion. The set by Vicki Smith is minimal but serves the purpose well. Gabreal Franklin deserves a mention for keeping the video functioning as it should. The costumes of Kevin Copenhaver, sound by James C. Swonger and lighting of Don Dornitzer also added greatly to the production.
Doherty, of course, carries the show, but to his credit, he doesn’t try to gloss over the more unappealing parts. He does it all very well, especially considering that the first time he lived it all was some 40 years ago!
Dream a Little Dream: The Nearly True Story of the Mamas and the Papas continues at the Bolton Theater of the Cleveland Play House through April 29. For tickets or other information, call (216) 795-7000, or visit http://www.ClevelandPlayhouse.com.
From Cool Cleveland contributor Kelly Ferjutz artswriterATadelphia.net (:divend:)