THEATRE REVIEW:
THE MAN IN BLACK
17 FEB/11

JOHN COULBOURN - QMI Agency
Rating: 2.5 out of 5

There's counterfeit Cash that's being passed around certain stretches of Yonge Street. Not cash, in the sense of, "Spare change, mister?" that marks so many of the financial transactions on the world's longest street. But rather Cash, as in "My name is Johnny Cash."

In fact those are amongst the first words you'll hear at THE MAN IN BLACK (which opened Wednesday at the Panasonic), and it might throw you for a minute or two, him being dead and all. But chances are you aren't going to have to check your program to remind yourself that the full title of this show is THE MAN IN BLACK: A TRIBUTE TO JOHNNY CASH, for beyond a shock of preternaturally black and Brylcreemed hair, Shawn Barker, for all his commitment and bravado, has few physical credentials to back up his claim. Frankly, he'd be as believable, on the physical front, if he claimed to be one of the lesser Baldwin brothers, or even k.d. lang.

But there's no way Alberta's angel with a lariat could mine those bass notes the way Barker can -- and they were, after all, Cash's stock in trade. And Barker makes the most of that ability as he -- backed by a tight four-piece band and two back-up singers -- makes his way through the Cash canon, serving up two dozen and more tunes from the master's long and varied career, leaving the impression that there's a bit of Cash in the Presley family tree.

But as he serves up a playlist that includes I Got Stripes; Cry, Cry, Cry; Boy Named Sue; Ghost Riders in the Sky and even the musical valedictory that is Hurt, it dawns that it wasn't Cash's vocal ability to go deep that we loved so much as his ability to strike emotional black gold when he did. All of which would be secondary, one supposes, if writer-director Kurt Brown had used the concert format as a way to impart meaningful biographical details about a man whose music transcended genre, but beyond the fact that he was married more than once and recorded in Memphis, Nashville and Los Angeles, those details are pretty slim. And frankly, if Cash really did have a predilection for the phrase "itty-bitty", did you really want to know?

But if it's a love of Cash's music that has brought you hither, in fairness, Barker -- over the course of the 31 songs on the playlist -- manages to periodically impress, landing somewhere square in the middle of that no-man's-land between impression and impersonation. At its worst, this show stops respectfully short of a send-up -- although the "gee, gol-leee, gosh, ma'am" drawl comes pretty close. And at its best, it is almost possible to believe that, if you closed your eyes, you might think you were hearing Cash himself -- but then, watching your radio could accomplish the same thing.

In the end, it dwells in theatrical purgatory -- a nostalgia show designed to appeal to Cash fans yet almost certain to disappoint anyone with a passion for the music and a good CD. But the good news is the watch you bought down the street is no longer a Rolex knock-off -- it's a tribute watch.