The premise is simple -- four guys singing a hit parade of nostalgic tunes. It could be "Forever Plaid," that long-running musical revue that celebrates the golden oldies via a quartet of geeky guys. After seeing "Route 66," a similar show that just opened at Moonlight's Avo Playhouse, one might very well wish that it were.

Actually, the new revue is quite harmless, and the ladies who lunch that sat behind me at Saturday's matinee sure seemed to enjoy it. But next to "Plaid," it pales in comparison.

Created by Roger Bean, "Route 66" is a high-octane ride through some 30+ songs dealing with old cars and big trucks and life along America's Mother Road. Bean has become a master at this sort of thing, devising small-cast revues that are high on entertainment value and low on production costs. Cash-strapped theatres across the country are starting to produce shows from his catalog: in April, "The Andrews Brothers," a tribute to the songs of World War II, will make its West Coast debut in Long Beach, and his 50's and 60's girl group revue, "The Marvelous Wonderettes," is enjoying a long run in Los Angeles and is slated to open off-Broadway in the spring.

For most of its long route, "Route 66" is classic country, with an odd switch into Southern California surf music for the home stretch. Though originally intended as more of a bookless revue, directors Brian Wells and David Brannen, with permission from Bean, have crafted a script that delves a little deeper into the characters -- four attendants at Orrin's Service Stop, a Texaco station somewhere along Route 66. But by the end, we still know precious little about any of them. It's all relentlessly silly antics throughout, with none of the heart that distinguishes finer revues like "Forever Plaid" or the Fats Waller musical, "Ain't Misbehavin'."

The four performers gamely deliver, but with such weak material, it's a tough sell. Sean Tamburrino leads the group as the gas station manager. Richard Bermudez plays the goofy, good-looking young ladies' man. David Beaver is a similarly goofy young man. And Bruce Blackwell is the poor, picked-on newest employee still in a probationary period (the Oklahoma Panhandle-thin plot really seems to center on his attaining full-fledged status in the group; no surprise it just sort of happens suddenly a few minutes before show's end).

In all, "Route 66" clocks in at one hour and 45 minutes, including a 15-minute intermission. Considering Wells and Brannen have already cut about eight numbers from the show's original lineup of songs, and added some largely superfluous dialogue, the show could very easily stand to be tightened to a 90-minute (or less!) one-act.

Guys in drag is a recurring joke here. First, Beaver croons the 1965 Del Reeves novelty, "Girl on the Billboard," to a hapless bewigged guy recruited from the audience. Later, Tamburrino has fun as a "Truck Stop Cutie," and is joined by a big-breasted blonde Bermudez. Then, in Act Two, Tamburrino is at it again as "The Little Old Lady from Pasadena" (whose joke starts to wear thin as he leaves the flower-print frock on for several subsequent numbers).

(l-r) Bruce Blackwell, Sean Tamburrino, and David Beaver

Copyright©2008 Ken Jacques

Speaking of things wearing thin, the 1980 Dave Dudley hit, "Rolaids, Doan's Pills and Preparation H" is a one-joke song if ever there were one, but Beaver, sitting atop a toilet, makes the most of it.

Other highlights include Bermudez' turn as a "Long Tall Texan" in a 10-gallon hat, and his vocal on the 1964 Jan and Dean classic, "Dead Man's Curve." Blackwell rocks and rolls in "Hot Rod Queen," but doesn't have the full voice to deliver Mary Cutrufello's poignant "The Long Red Line." Beaver would have a choice moment with Dale Watson's "Gallop to Gallup," if it weren't for his one chance at heartfelt balladry being sabotaged by the unnecessary buffoonery of the other three. And though listed in the program, Roger Miller's beautiful "King of the Road" never found its way to the stage -- another missed opportunity in a show heavy on silly up-tempos.

The guys' simple gas station get-ups are by Carlotta Malone, and Eric Lotze's lighting is fine. The set -- a nicely detailed Texaco station, complete with period gas pumps and a vintage Coca-Cola machine -- is uncredited (though technical director Justin Hall is likely the man responsible).

Brannen did the musical direction, and while the guys sound fine for the most part, that pre-recorded musical track has to go. The show calls for a mere 3-piece musical combo, and for an inexpensive revue like "Route 66," one thinks they could have at least afforded a trio of live musicians. Instead, it comes across sounding more like your typical low-budget theme park show.

Which -- despite my reservations -- seems to be exactly what Moonlight's audience wants.

VIEW PROGRAM HERE (PDF)