Thanks to a long-lasting relationship with television celebrity, stage actress, and playwright Ronnie Claire Edwards, Theatre Three snagged the regional premiere of her ?play with music? Idols of the King (co-written with Allen Crowe). And that?s about the only positive thing I can say about it.
The use of the word ?play? here is subjective: what this overly long mess consists of is paper-thin vignettes loosely stitched together under the pelvis-thrusting banner of Elvis. Whether making a pilgrimage to view the King?s body at Graceland, trekking to his famous concert in Las Vegas, or simply dreaming of that famous curled lip, an odd assortment of characters presents, through short scenes or monologues, proof of their devotion.
This stilted structure serves as a showcase for the two actors tasked with embodying all the characters. Luckily Morgana Shaw and Michael Corolla are up to the task of creating multiple personalities and switching them on a dime. Shaw especially displays an impressive range, jumping from Southern firecracker to mousy piano teacher to feisty old woman with ease. Her masterful performance alone might be enough to justify buying a ticket.
Almost, but not quite. There?s still two hours of head-scratching ?plot? to contend with, and director Terry Dobson (who also leads the able onstage band) whisks the audience on a confusing journey through time and geography. A retired couple touring the company with a commode once used by Elvis, a hardscrabble waitress whose ill son was the beneficiary of Elvis? altruistic nature, and a gay party planner who inherited his love of Elvis from his mother?they?re all here, but we?re not sure why.
Each fragmented scene concludes with a perfunctory musical appearance by the King himself. Jack Foltyn, a Graceland Approved Elvis Artist and the originator of this role in the show?s world premiere in Arkansas, certainly brings energy to his interpretation. But his detached characterization more often than not comes off as a poor casino impersonation: Elvis by way of Hugh Jackman (and that?s not a compliment).
Those hoping to experience a bit about Elvis? life and legacy will most surely be disappointed. For as much as the show claims to be about the legendary performer, he?s never more than a notion flitting about the stage like a piece of confetti. We don?t learn about or get emotionally invested in the man who helped revolutionize rock ?n? roll; instead we get a crackpot conspiracy theorist who believes Elvis is sending him coded messages through fan letters and a flower child named Zephyr who?s certain she?s carrying Elvis? twins.
Sandwiched within the character lineup is a hard-living showgirl who claims to have rebuffed Elvis? amorous advances when he was just a young pup performing casino sets. Thanks to Shaw?s sly smiles and coy eyelash flutters, we can tell there?s a treasure trove of wondrous, sordid stories behind that throaty laugh. Now that?s a show I would have liked to have seen.
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