Digging for Dirt

This chapter considers the club numbers in Pal Joey, performed diegetically in either rehearsal or performance. These songs—“Chicago,” “That Terrific Rainbow,” and “Flower Garden of My Heart”—best characterize the sleazy atmosphere of the club; the first two are performed in Mike’s South Side Club, and the last in rehearsal at the aspirational Chez Joey. All three are excellent character numbers, and they’re meant to reflect poorly on the performers who sing and dance to them. Rodgers and Hart here faced an interesting dilemma: how might one write an effectively “bad” song that’s also entertaining in its own right? With help from O’Hara’s scathingly satirical dialogue, they turned their keen and critical eye toward the manners of cheap nightclubs and their patrons, balancing aural realism with carefully crafted social commentary. Their efforts resulted in some of the funniest numbers in the show.

Conclusion

This chapter considers the afterlife of Pal Joey, exploring the reasons for the success of some productions, and for the failure of a host of others. More recent critiques of Pal Joey of the script, and the use of slang, in particular—frequently point out how dated the show is. John O’Hara’s writing is so specific to time and place that it can appear outmoded, or, to use a term supplied by a number of critics, tacky. This particular face of American identity has also been copied, parodied, and overplayed in both foreign and domestic film and theater. Joey has a slippery character, beguiling and bewildering producers and directors since its premiere.

History of a Heel

This chapter traces the history of the 1952 revival of Pal Joey, from the Starlight Operetta production in Dallas (1949), to a successful summer-stock tour, to the revival. Particular attention will be paid to records, recording technology, and the works-oriented model in cast recordings, which helped make these stage productions viable. The main creative forces behind the revival, in addition to Rodgers and O’Hara, were Jule Styne, producer, and Robert Alton, who supervised the production, as well as the boyish Harold Lang, who danced in the shadow of Gene Kelly as Joey. The critical reaction to the revival was, arguably, what made Pal Joey a subsequently canonic show. It also revealed a good deal about the current fidelities of the musical theater, and how the discourse surrounding it reflected larger concerns about art during the period.

The Women of Pal Joey

Pal Joey features four female character archetypes: the shrewd, wealthy woman of taste; the sleazy nightclub chorine; the innocent ingénue; and the hard-boiled reporter. All four of these types had appeared on Broadway (and in film) before. In Pal Joey two of them—the ingénue, Linda, and the nightclub singer, Gladys—are parodies. Linda serves as a foil to the typical ingénue trope, and doesn’t develop as a character. Gladys is a stereotype, albeit a funny one, of the tough-talking nightclub chanteuse. Vera is, truly, the only female character in Pal Joey to be afforded a complex inner life. The character Melba, however, offers the audience shrewd commentary on the conventions that Pal Joey sends up. This chapter looks specifically at the character Vera, played by Vivienne Segal, and the song “Zip,” sung by the character Melba and performed by Jean Casto and Elaine Stritch.

I Could Write a Book (Musical)

This chapter analyses Pal Joey’s book numbers. This type of integrated song was not new to Broadway, or to the shows of Rodgers and Hart. The degree to which these songs lend sympathy to hard-to-like characters, however—characters who might otherwise be dismissed as mere cutouts of pulp-fiction villains—is remarkable. These songs helped balance O’Hara’s hard-boiled book, giving the audience the opportunity to identify with a group of character types they would otherwise be wary of associating with. The unconventional nature of many of the book songs, however, which critique, mock, and upend traditional musical comedy tropes, made way for a new critical discourse concerning musical theater.

Rodgers and Hart’s Boldest Venture

One of the crowning jewels in Rodgers and Hart’s post-Hollywood partnership, Pal Joey was purportedly their favorite show together. By the time of Pal Joey, Rodgers and Hart had written over thirty musicals together and had standardized their working process. This chapter traces the progress from bold idea to finished score, with attention paid to revisions, additions, and other subsequent changes as the score moved from sketch, to previews, to the Broadway premiere. This chapter also looks closely at the collaborative process, giving due credit to the other members of the show’s creative team, including John O’Hara, producer/director George Abbott, and choreographer Robert Alton.

O’Hara, the Heel

This chapter examines John O’Hara’s influence on the flavor of Pal Joey. The musical is loosely based on his “Joey” stories (originally published between 1938 and 1940 in installments in the New Yorker), which reflect a style typical of the author: frank, realistic, and modern in vernacular. One of O’Hara’s specialties was his characterization of the antihero; this type of character features throughout his novels and short stories and was accompanied by a cynical realism that went on to permeate the atmosphere of Pal Joey, the musical. Understanding O’Hara’s literary style and reputation, and his laser-like focus on class relations, illuminates the place of his Joey stories in American literature. It also helps contextualize theater critics’ mixed reaction to O’Hara’s script, and to literary realism on the Broadway stage.

Introduction

The introductory chapter establishes the significance of Pal Joey in its own time by delving into the more controversial aspects of the show and its reception. The unconventional qualities of Pal Joey begin with its setting (a “cheap” nightclub in the South Side of Chicago), its cynicism, and its sexually frank characters. Its brazen depiction of flawed people—desperately grasping for a more secure class position, for fame, for sex, or for love—divided critics; on one hand, Pal Joey was praised for its depiction of seemingly real-to-life people. On the other hand, critics questioned the merits of giving these characters time on stage. This chapter ends with a consideration of Pal Joey’s unsettled canonic status and its role in reinforcing aesthetic values that hardened in the mid-twentieth century, and still inform the reception of musical theater.

Joey Dances

In musical theater criticism, dance is too often considered secondary to the total effect of a show. In Pal Joey, dance did much more than tell a story—it viscerally engaged the audience; dynamized the space of the stage, the theater, and the diegetic world of the musical; and, quite literally, stopped the show. Without choreographer Robert Alton and the original Joey, Gene Kelly, Pal Joey might well have been unpalatable to audiences. Dance saved the show from the danger of being too “straight” in regard to book, and too unpleasant in regard to character and situation. But because of the lack of dance criticism during the period, many critics, and subsequently historians, have focused almost solely on the music and the book to explain its success and influence. This chapter will attempt to give dance its due in regard to the legacy of Pal Joey.

Pal Joey Goes to Hollywood

The 1957 screen adaptation of Pal Joey—starring Frank Sinatra as Joey, Rita Hayworth as Vera, and Kim Novak as Linda—redeems Joey. Now a singer rather than a dancer, Joey genuinely falls in love with Linda. In the end Joey gets the girl. The film promotes a set of emerging gender archetypes that defy middle-class, suburban constructions of masculinity and femininity. Joey’s stage-to-screen evolution—from heel to swinging bachelor—is mirrored by Linda’s transformation from stenographer to sex kitten. Both of these archetypes are responses to what cultural theorists have called the postwar “crisis” in masculinity. The character Vera too is altered. As played by Rita Hayworth, she is tamed by Joey. The anxiety over contested gender roles is reflected in the alteration of the original score, which is reworked, repurposed, and in some cases eviscerated in order to promote the ethos of the film.