Hank Williams:
Lost Highway
Written by Randal Myler and Mark Harelik
Music by Hank Williams
Directed by Damon Kiely
at Greenhouse Theater, 2257 N. Lincoln (map)
thru Sept 28 | tickets: $29-$49 | more info
Check for half-price tickets
Read review
Though engulfed by demons, Williams’ music is from downhome angels
American Blues Theater presents
Hank Williams: Lost Highway
Review by Catey Sullivan
Not that there was ever much doubt, but with the remount of Hank Williams: Lost Highway, Matthew Brumlow’s still got it. “It”, in this case, being a voice as broad, lonesome and beautiful as an unspoiled prairie and a presence that’ll keep you rapt from start to finish of Randal Myler and Mark Harelik’s musical bio. Directed by Damon Kiely, the story of a skinny, dirt-poor kid from the outskirts of nowheresville, Alabama is at once sad, funny, and rich with the raw, gorgeously unpolished, true country sound that made Williams an icon of the genre.
That legacy is gloriously realized in Lost Highway’s onstage band. Austin Cook (bass), John Foley (keyboards, spoons), Greg Hirte (fiddle), and Michael Mahler (guitar) blaze through the score with the authenticity and potency of pure, backwoods moonshine.
Lost Highway is the rare musical bio that’s a compelling in its storytelling as it is in its musical performances. Williams’ life and death could easily be reduced to the cliché of the tragic artistic genius. That doesn’t happen here. Williams’ story rings with layered, emotional truth rather than easy tropes. Williams could be as petulant as a small child and as scary as a dead-eyed assassin, but even at his most exasperating and destructive, you never stop rooting for him in Lost Highway – or being deeply interested in what will come next in his short, fast, indelible life.
Brumlow is the heart and soul of the piece, deftly capturing the volatile mix of joy, defiance and sorrow that combined to make Williams’ sound so beautiful and, often, so sad. When his equally stubborn wife Audrey tells Hank that “you’ve gotten so far above yourself, you don’t know which way to fall,” the moment becomes a heart-piercing freeze frame image of the soaring ecstasy and unmitigated grief that comes with achieving everything you ever set out to do.
Brumlow is surrounded by a crackerjack cast that defy superlatives. As Mama Lily, Suzanne Petri is tart as vinegar and powerful as a pistol, a force of nature whose disapproving stare could bore a hole straight through a steel bullseye at 500 paces. Cora Vander Broek’s Audrey is Mama Lily’s match, a vixen who could “melt the wax off a Dixie cup” and whose gawdawful singing voice is matched by an indomitable spirit. Early on, there’s a scene set in Williams’ rattletrap jalopy, Mama Rose and Audrey in the front seat with Hank, the rest of the band smashed in the back. The interplay between Petri and Vander Broek is comic, character-defining gold, the verbal equivalent of a shootout at the OK Corral that ends in an uneasy, hilarious draw.
Byron Glenn Willis reprises his (underwritten) role as Tee-Tot, the hard-used musician who teaches Hank the meaning of the blues. Tee-Tot might not be the most developed of characters, but Willis’ delivery of his vocal numbers will send chills down your spine. He utterly captures the sound of something ancient, primal and all-but unspeakably beautiful.
Then there’s the band, which is a raucous joy to hear. Hirte sets the fiddle on fire with incendiary grace and musicianship. Mahler, wide-eyed and endearing as something of a chicken-fried doofus, plays second fiddle to nobody on the guitar. Cook’s bass thrums like a heartbeat throughout and Foley’s light, impish dexterity with a variety of keyboards is almost otherworldly. Finally, we have an indispensable Dana Black as a one-woman Greek Chorus in the guise of a world-weary, truck-stop waitress. Black is both Everywoman and a vivid, distinctly specific representative of the legions who made Williams’ beloved.
If you’re not of a mind to log on to iTunes and download a catalog of Williams’ music by the rousing finale of Lost Highway, you just weren’t paying attention.
Rating: ★★★½
Hank Williams: Lost Highway continues through September 28th at Greenhouse Theater, 2257 N. Lincoln (map), with performances Wednesdays-Saturdays at 7:30pm, Sundays 2:30pm. Tickets are $29-$49, and are available by phone (773-404-7336) or online through Vendini.com (check for half-price tickets at Goldstar.com). More information at AmericanBluesTheater.com. (Running time: 2 hours 30 minutes, includes an intermission)
Photos by Johnny Knight
artists
cast
Matthew Brumlow (Hank Williams), Dana Black (waitress), Austin Cook (Hoss), John Foley (Shag), Greg Hirte (Leon), James Joseph (Radio Newsman), James Leaming (Pap), Michael Mahler (Jimmy), Suzanne Petri (Mama Lilly), Cora Vander Broek (Audrey Williams), Byron Glenn Willis (Tee-Tot).
behind the scenes
Damon Kiely (director), Malcolm Ruhl (music director), Michael Mahler (associate music director), Jackie Penrod, Rick Penrod (co-scenic design), Rick Sims (sound design), Nick Belley (lighting design), Ellie Humphrys (assistant lighting, master electrician), Sarah E. Ross (costume design), Christopher Neville (assistant costume design), Arianna Soloway (properties design), Ellen Willett (production manager), Jaclyn Holsey, Dana M. Nestrick (stage managers), Kathryn Lochert (assistant stage manager), Brian Claggett (technical director), Eric Backus (sound engineer), Lauri Dahl (associate dramaturg), Stage Channel (video production), Johnny Knight (photos)
14-0801
