GEORGE F. LEE / GLEE@STARBULLETIN.COM Sherry Chock Wong and Elitei Tatafu Jr. take their turn on the dance floor, as David Vega, left, and Jamie Roftsmeyer watch in Manoa Valley Theatre's "My Way."

‘Tribute’ fails both
the music and the man

"My Way": Presented by Manoa Valley Theatre at 2833 East Manoa Road, 7:30 p.m. Wednesdays and Thursdays, 8 p.m. Fridays and Saturdays, and 4 p.m. Sundays, through Sept. 19. Tickets $30 general, $25 for seniors and military, and $15 for ages 25 and younger. Call 988-6131.

The best thing that can be said about "My Way" -- Manoa Valley Theatre's purported "tribute" to Frank Sinatra -- is that it isn't karaoke! Four people take turns performing Sinatra's songs, but rather than invest them with heartfelt emotion, they trash many of them as silly comic material.

Musical director Corin Overland's trio of musicians can't be expected to recreate the powerful big-band arrangements that were an important part of Sinatra's success, but they give the show a solid foundation. Credit Overland as well for avoiding use of synth tracks to simulate horn and string sections.

There is one more bit of good news: Cabaret seating affords a good view from any seat in the house. If only "My Way" gave the American pop classics central to the show the respect they deserve.

One problem is that it was Sinatra's phrasing that made him stand out from the small army of post World War II pop singers. Without that, the show is more about American pop music than Sinatra's take on it.

Jamie Roftsmeyer shows her understanding of classic pop whenever director/choreographer Jim Hutchison allows her to take the material seriously. Her renditions of "My Funny Valentine" and "Guess I'll Hang My Tears Out to Dry" are among the best in the show. She also stands first among equals in the smooth four-part arrangement of "All The Way" that closes Act I.

Elitei Tatafu Jr., David Vega and Sherry Chock Wong don't have the same command of the idiom, but they do well when allowed to treat the material with respect. Wong's best numbers -- "Where Or When," "I Love Paris" and "Something Wonderful Happens In Summer" -- show that she's ready for bigger roles in more substantial shows. Tatafu gives "Drinking Again" a nice straight read, and Vega distinguishes himself as the bereaved barfly in "One For My Baby (And One More For the Road)."

Those who resist the urge to flee at intermission will be rewarded with a beautiful four-part rendition of "Moonlight Serenade" that also shows what the foursome can do when allowed to sing as a quartet without mugging, clowning or unnecessary theatrics.

Unfortunately, either Hutchison or the show's creators, David Grapes and Todd Olson, must have felt that the only way these songs will entertain a contemporary audience is to make jokes out of them. So, Roftsmeyer spends much of Act I either smirking or sneering while Vega performs, Vega seems cast as the designated buffoon, and all four appear to be working very hard to hoof it through a series of generic song-and-dance numbers.

It is painful to experience "All Of Me" and "Something Stupid" as fodder for third-rate sight gags. An assault on "I've Got You Under My Skin" drags on far too long, and the finale of "That's Life" is camped up shamefully as well.

A nadir is reached with "You're Cheatin' Yourself (If You're Cheatin' On Me)" as a number in which Roftsmeyer and Wong chastise Tatafu and Vega for using Sinatra-era slang terms for women! True, Sinatra could sing expressively of the pain of heartache, and he certainly enjoyed female company, but he was never known as a guy who considered "broads" equal to men or someone who would tolerate a "skirt" telling him what to do.

Nothing that contradicts that impression is found in the fan-mag type information on Sinatra that are also part of the show.

Anyone who wants to pay homage to "the man who embodied cool" and epitomized American pop music would be better off investing in some of the classic Sinatra recordings of the 1940s, '50s and '60s that have been reissued on CD.