Musically, ‘Hank’ Sets the Woods on Fire

By Mal Vincent, The Virginian-Pilot, Norfolk, Va.

Apr. 13–Hear that lonesome whippoorwill, He sounds too blue to fly, The midnight train is whining low, I’m so lonesome I could cry.

These lines from Hank Williams form perhaps the most dramatic pop song about human loneliness in the American lexicon. The hopeless quality of lost love and lost ambition permeate. To hear it should send chills up your spine. It is a drama all to itself.

It is curious, then, that there is so little drama in “Hank Williams: Lost Highway,” the show that has settled in to the Virginia Stage Company’s Wells Theatre through April 20. Walking in the footsteps of an earlier box-office bonanza for the company about Patsy Cline, this show is sure to be a crowd pleaser that will encourage continued musical “biographies” such as “Ella,” already scheduled for next season.

“Lost Highway” is not much of a play, but it offers an altogether pleasant concert evening that re-creates the music of Williams, a singer who ranks with Bob Dylan in writing and recording songs with the down-home, common-folk feel of America. Jarrod Emick’s vocal impersonation of Williams’ style is largely effective, and he is backed by a simply terrific group of musician-actors who suggest the Cowboy Drifters — complete with harmonica, banjo and even spoons.

Musically it’s a great evening, but dramatically it takes the high road (make that the superficial road) at every step rather than getting into anything like what must have been the rowdy, gritty world of a country boy coming up through the ranks of the music business in the 1940s and ’50s.

Writers Randal Myler and Mark Harelik faced a difficult challenge in dramatizing Williams’s life. After all, this is the story of a man who simply drank himself to death. Fame, as is so often the case in these musical biographies, is depicted as the villain.

The play begins with a funeral, but everything after that is upbeat, with comic asides to dispel any hints of dramatic conflict. Family troubles are avoided. So are marriage problems and eventual alcohol and drug addiction.

Williams comments that he has no drinking problem: “If I get drunk, I just fall over. No problem.” He urges that we shouldn’t “worry about nothing because nothing is going to be all right anyhow.” Folksy asides let the audience off the hook just in case they begin to get emotionally involved, which, given this treatment, is unlikely.

The troubled marriage to Audrey Williams (a woman who spent much of her life after his death in furthering, and cashing in on, his legend) is treated casually. The divorce is simply announced, and his subsequent marriage to someone named Billie Jean is short-shrifted. Audrey, played with amusing flair and verve by Lauren Bauer, is used for comedic purposes in two segments to display how bad a singer she was. One would be enough.

Several monologues by a waitress who becomes involved with Williams seem superfluous, particularly a lengthy one that is meant, one suspects, to create the mood of the times. It brings the show to a stop.

If drama were being sought, the writers could have made more out of the controversial firing of Williams from the Grand Ole Opry as a result of allegedly drunken behavior. That episode is dismissed quickly. The film version of Williams’ life, called “Your Cheatin’ Heart” (1964) and featuring the unlikely casting of George Hamilton, made more of both the marital troubles and the controversy over the firing.

Williams died on New Year’s Day 1953 in the back seat of his powder blue Cadillac convertible somewhere in West Virginia en route to an afternoon show in Ohio. He was just 29.

The play features a long goodbye. Too long. First, the widow reads a farewell missive. Then, the entire cast comes on for a kind of “Chorus Line” finale: a revival-style chorus of “I Saw the Light,” designed to send everyone home in a happy spirit. If drama had been sought, a single spotlight on a solitary Williams singing “I’m So Lonesome I Could Cry” could have been chilling.

Emick looks a bit healthy for Williams’ last days, but his singing style suggests the aura of the man. Only with “Lonesome” does he falter — going for a faster tempo and not playing silence. He was seen, previously, on Broadway in the successful “The Boy From Oz” and the unsuccessful Johnny Cash bio “Ring of Fire.”

Mississippi Charles Bevel is a great presence as Tee-Tot, the old musician who taught Hank the blues. He is under-used, though, sitting on the sideline for the entire play -often adding musical harmony. It was a good idea but not fully executed.

The musicians are fine on all counts, including Shea Roebuck, Mark Baczynski, Russ Wever and musical director Scott Wakefield.

Laurie Birmingham brings a winning comic effect to Mama Lilly, Hank’s determined mother, who one suspects was tougher than she was humorous. Given the evening’s upbeat tone, her interpretation is on target. Local stage veteran Robert Nelson plays the perfunctory role of Fred Rose, the promoter who guided the singer’s career. As written, it is no more than a cliche.

“Lost Highway” is sure to be a box office bonanza for the remainder of its run. Musically, it scores — and fans are likely to be quite willing to forgo any details.

The best evaluation of the evening, then, comes down to its songs: “Your Cheatin’ Heart,”"Long Gone Lonesome Blues,”"Settin’ the Woods on Fire,”"Honky Tonk Blues,”"I Can’t Help It (If I’m Still in Love With You),”"Lovesick Blues,”"Jambalaya (on the Bayou)” and more. As long as there is picking and singing, all is right.

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Copyright (c) 2008, The Virginian-Pilot, Norfolk, Va.

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