Sammy Cahn in 1950. (GAB Archive/Redferns)
Kelli O’Hara and Harry Connick Jr. could heat up “Robin” the same way they added sizzle to “The Pajama Game.” (AP)
SAN DIEGO — By now, most of the great songwriter catalogs have been strip-mined for Broadway jukebox musicals, with decidedly mixed results.
For every smash like “Crazy for You” (George and Ira Gershwin) and “Jersey Boys” (the Four Seasons), there have been misfires like “Dream” (Johnny Mercer), “Swinging on a Star” (Johnny Burke) and the criminal “Good Vibrations” (the Beach Boys).
But one catalog that avoided the jukebox lure (or trap) for a long time was that of the great lyricist Sammy Cahn, who died in 1993. He was Frank Sinatra’s go-to guy for a phrase.
“Of all the writers, Sammy’s words fit my mouth the best,” Sinatra once said. Cahn’s songs, written with composer Jimmy Van Heusen, defined the eras of Sinatra’s creative life, from swinging Sinatra (“Ring-a-Ding Ding”) to somber Sinatra (“Only the Lonely”) to introspective Sinatra (“September of My Years”).
This roster of hits has been zealously guarded all these years by Sammy’s widow, Tita Cahn, who laughingly refers to herself as “the Wife That Roars.”
When Twyla Tharp announced she was bringing a Sinatra show to Broadway called “Come Fly With Me,” Tita roared. Ol’ Blue Eyes may have made the song a standard — and his estate blessed the musical — but he didn’t write it. Tharp had to take out the song, which at one point opened and closed the show, and change the title of the musical to “Come Fly Away.”
“When Sammy died, David Geffen told me they’d be coming after the catalog,” says Cahn. “And they did. They wanted to do a ‘Three Coins in the Fountain’ musical, but I thought it was hokey idea. And there were lots of proposals for revues. But I held back. I wanted a book musical, and I wanted to do it when the time was right.”
Amid resurgent nostalgia for the Rat Pack — Frank, Dino and Sammy — and “Mad Men” unleashing a craze for all things early ’60s, which Cahn’s lyrics did so much to define, that time would be now.
The vehicle is “Robin and the 7 Hoods,” which opened last week in San Diego at the Old Globe. All the songs — including “My Kind of Town,” “Call Me Irresponsible,” “Ain’t That a Kick in the Head,” “All the Way” — are by Cahn and Van Heusen.
Based on the 1964 Rat Pack movie, the musical is being directed and choreographed by Casey Nicholaw (“The Drowsy Chaperone”). The script is by Rupert Holmes (“The Mystery of Edwin Drood”). Formidable Broadway names, to be sure, but as one production source says: “Make no mistake. Tita is calling the shots.”
She’s also steamrolling to Broadway: “We don’t have a theater yet. But we are coming. You can put that in your column.”
She’ll have to sort a few things out, however. The verdict, from the critics and theater insiders, is lukewarm.
While there’s much to make you smile — including zippy production numbers like “Come Fly With Me,” which is performed by airline stewardesses wearing bright orange outfits — the plot is a thicket of complications and, as several critics pointed out, a bit of a lift from “Guys and Dolls.”
And not all the jokes are as snappy as, well, a Sammy Cahn lyric.
The San Diego Union Tribune called it a “canny, stylish new show that’s tons of frothy fun.” But the Los Angeles Times was cooler: “The show can’t figure out if it wants to be an honest-to-goodness book musical or a jukebox jamboree.”
“Robin and the 7 Hoods” is very loosely based on its namesake movie, which itself was little more than an excuse for Frank to be Frank, Dean to be Dean, and Sammy to be Sammy. The setting has been moved from Prohibition to the early ’60s (“Mad Men” again), and the plot centers on a gangster with a heart of gold who, with his band of “seven hoods” and a cute TV reporter named Marian Archer, matches wits with a gangster with a heart of ice.
Privately, production sources say there should be some cast changes for Broadway. The Old Globe cast is perfectly fine for the regionals — Amy Spangler, Eric Schneider, Will Chase, Kelly Sullivan are solid, second-tier Broadway hands. But star-wattage is a must for New York. At the opening-night performance, production sources were whispering the names Harry Connick Jr. and Kelli O’Hara.
Connick’s expert with this sort of material. And, as anyone who saw “The Pajama Game” knows, the sparks between him and O’Hara are such that the fire department is on call to hose down any stage on which they appear.
As things stand, the stars of “Robin and the 7 Hoods” are the songs. The new arrangements, by John McDaniel and Bill Elliott, are as crisp and refreshing as Campari and soda on a sunny San Diego afternoon.
Now it’s up to the Wife That Roars to make the rest of “Robin and the 7 Hoods” a Show That Swings.