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Addicted to the Spotlight
Reviews
In 'Addicted to the Spotlight,' Mark Nadler Is All Hot-Wired Energy
Mark Nadler's new cabaret show, "Addicted to the Spotlight" at 54 
Below, is a ferocious but good-natured retort to those critics (including this one) who complain that once he is on the stage, it is almost impossible to drag him off. He is a proud throwback to those voracious song-and-dance men from the vaudeville era whom you might have thought had gone the way of the dodo. But here he is. In their maniacal quest to shoot the moon, his closest equivalents are probably Liza Minnelli and Mandy Patinkin, who both also have sawdust in their blood.
But Mr. Nadler, who plays the piano, sings, tap dances and tells show business tales, has them beat in terms of limitless hot-wired energy. To his ardent coterie, this fire-breathing entertainer wants nothing less than to knock your socks off and break your heart at the same time. Those who feel assaulted view his stage deportment as a display of rampant egomania and an insatiable desperation for applause.
"Addicted to the Spotlight" is far and away Mr. Nadler's most personal show. The two key figures with whom he identified at last Wednesday's opening-night performance were Al Jolson and Danny Kaye, and he sang songs associated with both. Both these forerunners were intensely competitive, he said. Jolson once followed Enrico Caruso onstage at an all-star event and immediately announced, "You ain't seen nothing yet!"
Mr. Nadler also takes to heart the adage "The show must go on." In a four-decade career, he boasts, he has missed two shows. Even when his beloved mother died, he didn't cancel.
The program wasn't all sock-it-to-'em showstoppers like "Swanee" and "There's No Business Like Show Business." Mr. Nadler, who was accompanied on guitar and banjo by Nick Russo and on bass by Tom Hubbard, has a wistful, softer side that surfaced with his renditions of the Rodgers and Hart ballad "You Are Too Beautiful" and Frank Loesser's "Anywhere I Wander," sung in memory of his mother.
I've said it before, but the appellation applies more than ever; Mr. Nadler, with his talent and boundless drive, has earned my vote for the title of Mr. Show Business.
Stephen Holden - Feb 24th, 2015
Most contemporary performers aspire to be "triple threats," but Mark Nadler does them all one better by singing, dancing and acting all at the same time, and not just playing the piano but literally pounding the instrument into submission. Likewise, in his latest, and, in many ways most moving solo production (aided by bassist Tom Hubbard and guitarist Nick Russo ) he succeeds in doing even more seemingly conflicting things at once. The material was posthumously gifted to him from the careers and canons of Al Jolson and Danny Kaye, but as he confesses at the outset, the show isn't about them, it's about him. The neat trick is that he recreates the sentimental energy of a Jolson "mammy" song and the sheer vocal dexterity of a Kaye patter piece while somehow keeping the focus securely on himself. Even though he's nothing if not considerably larger than life, the whole production somehow remains miraculously intimate.
by Will Friedwald
MARK NADLER's 'Addicted To The Spotlight' at 54 Below Showcases Abundant Talent, Cleverly Framed
When Mark Nadler, singing the iconic Irving Berlin song and Al Jolson standard "Let Me Sing and I'm Happy," strolls from the back of 54 Below to his rightful place center stage (accompanied by Nick Russo on banjo), he seems, in all respects, a jaunty, debonair thespian. The song is light, unembellished, infectious. What you're watching in truth is a state of the art ballistic missile unerringly headed for its target.
"My name is Mark and I'm a spotlightaholic." Tonight Nadler celebrates two "out of control" spotlightaholics--Danny Kaye and Al Jolson--both of whom put themselves (and kept themselves) in front of audiences every available moment. (The artist designates himself as a "functional" sufferer of the compulsion.) Memorable anecdotes enlighten and entertain. "In the spirit of Kaye and Jolson, however, this show is all about ME." Four decades in, Nadler calls show business his religion. Judging by ensuing narrative, his zealous devotion is, in context, worthy of sainthood.
The splendid "Maladjusted Jester" (written by Sylvia Fine for husband Danny Kaye) says it all: "Your majesty, I have a confession/My secret I must now betray/I was not a born fool/It took work to get this way . . . " Nadler plays, sings, stands, stamps, mugs a bit, and rolls his r' s. He inserts "O Sole Mio" and a parenthesis of Fine's "Tchaikovsky (and other Russians)" in the middle of the number. (The performer does a spectacular version of this himself.)
Work?! This is an indefatigable perfectionist. If Nadler misses a lyric, I assure you, he's harder on himself than any critic would be. Arrangements are meticulous, historical patter deeply researched, song lead-ins clever, backup uber-rehearsed. Selective deployment of both humor and grief (yes, the gamut is that wide tonight), meant to show heartache and sacrifice in tandem with reward, is scrupulous.
During Lady in the Dark, Kaye would slowly eat a banana onstage in retaliation to Gertrude Lawrence's upstaging when he held forth. Jolson once had an elephant fired because it got too much applause. There's no doubt in my mind Nadler could hold his own against these show-boaters. The thing about all of them, the factor that allowed unconstrained if infuriating excess (at least to other actors and perhaps bookers), was formidable talent. God knows, Nadler has that. He plays piano (and I mean, plays) arranges, writes, sings, dances (a full tap routine tonight), acts and employs schtick like a vaudevillian on the Orpheum Circuit. Shows are original.
In a section of Jolson tunes, a propulsive, musical "Swanee" is followed in quick succession by "Is It True What They Say About Dixie?" (with breezy, vocal back-up from musicians Nick Russo and Tom Hubbard), and "I've Gotta Get Back to New York" (from the 1933 film Hallelujah, I'm a Bum.) Ah, "da smell of da Bron-ox." Nadler then circles with a hybrid "Mammy" lyric "I'd walk a million miles for--crowds and turnstiles . . . " We hear about his spinning an encounter with Gennifer Flowers--at Maxim's in Paris, no less--into coverage of his own show and a benefit at The Metropolitan Opera when Jolson interrupts deafening applause for Enrico Caruso assuring the startled audience, "You ain't heard nothing yet" before commandeering the spotlight.
Three unexpected song takes are: Richard Rodgers/Lorenz Hart's "You Are Too Beautiful" (from Hallelujah, I'm a Bum) which comes on the heels of a story about romantic betrayal, replacing infatuation with sorrow and resignation, recoloring the meaning: "Anywhere I Wander" (from Hans Christian Andersen) which begins acapella and sustains quiet yearning without getting histrionic; and "No Business Like Show Business" emerging with easy, mid-tempo sway--no brass, no flash--sincere.
"You're a Latin from Manhattan" (which Jolson sang during his then-wife Ruby Keeler's hoofing in the film "Go Into Your Dance") aptly arrives a Charo-like, Hollywood tango. Shoulders move rhythmically, eyebrows rise, our hips--on café seats--shift in time. If only Nadler had a head of hair to toss. An egg and maraca embellish. The performer's having fun; we're having fun. "Go Into Your Dance" is well etched, Depression-Era happy. Nadler gets the pulse of these.
When Gene Kelly made a guest appearance on The Danny Kaye Show, Kaye suggested Kelly could dance to anything. "What," asked Kelly," is the most beautiful thing you know?" "My linguini recipe," deadpanned Kaye who was, in fact, an expert chef. Kelly tap-danced to the recitation Nadler now repeats. (Jill Kenney--Choreography) What he lacks in lightness of foot, he makes up for in dexterity and finesse. Mobility along the short-lipped stage is impressive; his glee is palpable. An unassuming highpoint is the duet medley of "Lullaby in Ragtime" and "Goodnight" from Kaye's wonderful film The Five Pennies. Nadler sings one song, Russo and Hubbard the other. The number is sweet and evocative. "When the Saints Go Marching In" as performed in the film by Kaye with Louis Armstrong, ends the evening on an exuberant high note.
Though the show is lengthy and unconstrained, the artist's signature, titanic moxie is turned down a notch. High wattage stops just short of juggernaut. The choice eminently serves. Even under the umbrella theme, however, Nadler's self promotion feels strained. Frankly wincing the-show-must-go-on stories describe Kaye, Jolson, and Nadler. Did I say Nadler?
Whatever. Mark Nadler's artistry can be dizzying. The show is juicy and engrossing. Take the ride. It's a rush.
Photos by Stephen Sorokoff
Addicted To The Spotlight Mark Nadler-Vocals
Nick Russo-Guitar, Banjo;
Tom Hubbard-Bass
54 Below 254 West 54th St.
February 18, 2015
By Alix Cohen
Only one entertainer can top Mark Nadler – and that's Mark Nadler himself. He's done it again, in what is one of his most personal shows: singing, dancing and playing piano in his super-energetic style, and, at the same time, revealing himself and his own life's story in a way he has rarely, if ever, done before at 54 Below.
His show's title, "Addicted to the Spotlight," refers to the two entertainers whose careers and songs Mark explores: Al Jolson and Danny Kaye. Both were superb showmen, with many numbers written for them or identified with them. The evening included some 20 of these, starting with Irving Berlin's "Let Me Sing and I'm Happy" (a Jolson standard), which Mark performed as he entered the room from the back, and, trailed by Nick Russo playing banjo, paraded through the tables onto the stage.
Once there – with bassist Tom Hubbard awaiting them – Mark opened with a tribute medley to both famed entertainers. Including "Swanee" (by George Gershwin and Irving Caesar), a Jolson favorite, and two fast patter songs performed by Danny Kaye: "The Maladjusted Jester" (by Sylvia Fine, Kaye's wife) and Kurt Weill and Ira Gershwin's fast-paced tongue twister, "Tschaikowsky (and Other Russians)."
The show was weighted toward Jolson, with a majority of the songs identified with him, including "Is It True What they Say About Dixie," "Alabammy Bound," "Carolina in the Morning," and "Mammy" — all interspersed with Mark's comments on Jolson 's performing and personal life.
Mark, of course, was at the piano throughout, playing in his lightning style. At one point, however, seated there, he removed his regular shoes and (never pausing in his patter) donned tap shoes, and for three songs – "Go Into Your Dance," by Harry Warren and Al Dubin and associated with Jolson; "Linguine," which once had been recited by Danny Kaye to dancing by Gene Kelly, and "Ballin' the Jack" – Mark roamed the stage, skillfully tap-dancing (to elegant choreography by Jill Kenney).
While on his feet, Mark stopped the music to tell about himself: about his 42-plus years in show business, previous and ongoing personal relationships, and cabaret friends he has known and lost – a warm and intimate change of pace from past shows.
With two final numbers—"Lullaby in Ragtime," with words and music by Sylvia Fine, and the traditional "When the Saints Go Marching In," Mark leaped off the stage, roaming the room once again as the house lights rose (and his audience cheered), to wind up at the bar – where a martini was awaiting him.
by Peter Haas
Mark Nadler is a force of nature. Seeing him perform means an evening of laughter, tears, drama, singing, dancing and great piano playing. Addicted to the Spotlight was ostensibly a show about Al Jolson and Danny Kaye, but, ultimately, it was a show about Mark Nadler. Bursting with energy, he artfully mingles songs and stories about Jolson and Kaye with his own life story.
Nadler opened by walking through the audience while performing a number that described Jolson and Kaye, but also himself: "Let Me Sing and I'm Happy." It was followed by "There's No Business Like Show Business," its "show must go on" theme runs through many of the life stories in the show. Nadler was amazing doing "Tchaikovsky," the song that made Kaye a star. The always kinetic Nadler made his piano work on "Swanee" a joy to watch as well as to listen to. Jolson had a softer side, captured very nicely with "You Are Too Beautiful." "Ballin' the Jack" allowed Nadler to show off his prowess as a tap dancer. A moving story regarding his mom's passing preceded "My Mammy." The show ended with a rousing "When the Saints Go Marching In," with special lyrics by Kaye's wife, Sylvia Fine.
Reviewed by Ron Forman