Rock & Roll Man – Often Fun, But Less Than the Sum of Its Parts
Albert James “Alan” Freed (1921-1965) was a radio DJ and impresario who against all odds brought African American rhythm and blues to mass market radio stations and integrated live concerts. The piece suggests Freed first coined the term “rock and roll.” In fact, the genre was named by Billboard Magazine in 1946, but obscure until the DJ revived it.
Valisia Lekae (LaVern Baker), Constantine Maroulis (Alan Freed), Rodrick Covington (Little Richard) and the Company
We meet the forcibly retired protagonist in 1964, longing to do what he was “born to do.” The Chords, a Black doo-wop group in garish jackets, sing “Life would be a dream/If I could take you to a paradise above…” (“Sh-boom”) Choreography is nifty. The musical is filled with short recreations of familiar period numbers. Freed (Constantine Maroulis) rises to enter the (fantasy) Court of Public Opinion where he’s impelled to defend his legacy. Out-for-blood prosecutor, J. Edgar Hoover (Bob Ari), accuses him of “the destruction of the American way of life by inventing the genre of rock and roll.” His defense attorney, flamboyant performer Little Richard (Rodrick Covington), calls the trial a “witch hunt.” ‘Sound familiar? The musical is Freed’s backstory.
Joe Pantoliano (Leo Mintz) and Constantine Maroulis (Alan Freed)
Alan Freed served as a DJ on Armed Forces Radio, then went on to local broadcasting jobs in Ohio. The young man meets Leo Mintz (Joe Pantoliano), owner of Record Rendezvous in a Cleveland bar. “You gotta come down and see what’s going on,” Mintz encourages. Freed does just that. The store is packed with racially mixed teenagers dancing to rock and roll demos. At the time, the material was only played on “Black” stations, yet clearly kids heard no color barrier. The grooving DJ recognizes his destiny. Aware there’ll be pushback, Mintz volunteers to sponsor a new show, but how do they frame it?
The Dominoes perform “Sixty Minute Man” (Billy Ward/Rose Marks). Rife with sexual innuendo, its lyric says “I rock’m, roll’m all night long.” Freed names the category “rock and roll.” Inspired by an obscure instrumental piece call “Moondog Symphony” written and recorded by New York City street musician/ composer Louis T. Hardin, he calls the show Moondog House. Listeners are Moondoggers. Popularity erupts. (Hardin, a Viking dressed fixture outside Carnegie Hall, later sued and won a settlement.)
Alan Freed; Ball Poster (Both Public Domain)
Freed and Mintz organize The Moondog Coronation Ball at Cleveland Arena in 1952. The five act show is widely considered to be the first major rock and roll concert. Too many tickets are sold; there are riots. The DJ’s air time increases proportionate to his fame. When popularity edges east, Freed moves to WINS 1010 AM in New York City. His already neglected family stays behind. Mintz is invited to the city, but won’t uproot his family.
Smooth thug Morris Levy (Joe Pantoliano), owner of Birdland Jazz Club, stakes Freed to take his show on the road in exchange for a disproportionate slice of the pie. We watch actors portray The Drifters, Screamin’ Jay Hawkins, Chuck Berry (both Matthew S. Morgan), Bo Diddey (Eric B. Turner), Pat Boone, Buddy Holly (both Andy Christopher), Frankie Lymon (Jamonte), Jerry Lee Lewis (Domnique Scott), LaVern Baker (Valisia Lekae), and Little Richard. Numbers are lively and fun, but there are way too many.
Valisia Lekae (LaVern Baker)
Levy gets Freed a (short lived) prime time television show and opens the door to Hollywood. Five rock and roll themed films start with Rock Around the Clock in 1956 and end with Go, Johnny Go! in 1959. Exposure benefits performers, Freed, and Levy, the latter two raking it in. Levy makes a deal with Mercury Records in which the DJ will promote their vocalists for a fee. Freed refuses to play White covers of originally Black material. His compromise is to support those he likes as a paid “consultant.” Hoover comes after him on charges of payola, then a common practice.
Bob Ari (J. Edgar Hoover)
There are gaps. Somewhere in here, Freed becomes an alcoholic. We barely see it. There’s no sense of progression, yet suddenly Levy calls his so-called partner a “broken down drunk” holding him responsible for a business failing for lack of attention. One inebriated on-air scene is manifest. The DJ becomes unemployable. Alienation from his family is given too short shrift to justify a ballad with his daughter. (There were two wives, four children. We glimpse one of each.)
Rock & Roll Man is a good story. There are some talented performers. An overabundance of numbers chips away at some of that pleasure. The book needs editing and reshaping (Gary Kipper, Larry Marshak, Rose Vaiola-too many cooks?) Cutting what’s not essential only works if narrative doesn’t drop the ball. There’s a better show in here.
Rodrick Covington (Little Richard)
Original music and lyrics by Gary Kupper may not have strong hooks, but they seamlessly fit.
Constantine Maroulis (Alan Freed) has a terrific voice. Range and attitude sync with the period and genre. I find it interesting that in his (and ostensibly the director’s take) the protagonist comes off as merely misguided and suffering from a disease (alcoholism). i.e. sympathetic. While the latter is certainly true, it’s difficult to believe Freed honestly thought he was a paid consultant. Still, performance choices made, the character arrives all of a piece in this actor’s hands. If only the wig weren’t so bad.
Joe Pantoliano brightens the stage as both sweet, paternal Leo Mintz and slick, snake oil salesman Morris Levy. Both characters are believable. The actor’s timing with Levy’s line delivery, his extended, lowered brow gaze and snap decisions bring the gangster in a pinstripe suit alive.
Bob Ari’s J. Edgar Hoover offers skilled ballast providing contrast to the chaos of Freed’s life. As Little Richard, Rodrick Covington could take it even further – more squeals, more flamboyant movement. He’s happily on the way. Valisia Lekae (LaVern Baker) sings and dances with energy and flash.
A call out is due to Jamonte in his single excellent solo as Frankie Lymon.
Director Randal Myler, who seems to specialize in music biopics, has a great feel for early rock. Myler keeps an excess of scenes flowing – no easy task. Those playing the famous represent identifiable traits but almost all could take exaggeration further. Space is ably employed. I find the Hoover “reveal” irrelevant to the story.
“Dance Arrangements” by Kenneth Seymour accurately reflect group acts. Choreography (Stephanie Klemons) leans towards generic musical theater, rather than depicting specific dance crazes that would’ve been easy enough to reproduce. A missed opportunity.
Tim Mackabee’s set design is both cheerful and fluid, morphing from one element to another. Costumes by Leon Dobkowski continue a puzzling trend of depicting earlier times with the worst examples of fashion, rather than the best looking in order to distinguish difference. Even tacky stage outfits ranged in visual appeal.
Kelley Jordan’s wigs are problematic. Almost all contain too much hair making even those who wore exaggerated styles look fake. Freed’s Brylcreem waves were styled like a cartoon.
Alan Freed died at 43 from uremia and cirrhosis of the liver. In 1988, he was inducted into The Radio Hall of Fame. “Freed’s innovations helped make rock & roll and the Top 40 format permanent fixtures of radio,” the declaration said. In 1991, he was inducted into The Rock & Roll Hall of Fame and got a star on the Hollywood Walk of Fame. A 2015 article in The Wall Street Journal stated that he contributed to teenagers more tolerant view of integration.
Photos by Joan Marcus
Opening: Constantine Maroulis as Alan Freed
Rock & Roll Man
Book-Gary Kipper, Larry Marshak, Rose Vaiola
Original Music and Lyrics – Gary Kupper
Vintage Rock & Roll Elements – Marshak Classic Music LLC and Gary Kupper Music
Directed by Randal Myler
New World Stages
340 West 50th Street
