The Philadelphia Inquirer from Philadelphia, Pennsylvania • Page 93

section peoplehome entertainment Thursday, December 12, 1985 A yuletide offering at Walnut: 'Gypsy' 1 I By William B. Collins jjxjwircr ThMlcr Crttic In its first two seasons as a produc- IvGVlGW ing company, the Walnut Street The- GYPSY jater built a large following for its MuS(C Jule jcs holiday musical with shows deemed Sondheim. book by Arthur Laurents. fit for the whole family. It was Oliver rected by Charles Abbott, settings by Mark 'the first year, The Music Man the W.

Morton, costumes by Kathleen Blake, second. 1 lighting by Gregg Marriner. -Presented by the Walnut Street Theater Company, Ninth A slight adjustment has been made and Walnut Streets. Ends Jan. 5.

in the policy. The yuletide offering uncle Jocko Lee Golden this year is Gypsy, the brassy, raffish Baby Louise Monica Miller jShOW about the birth of a burlesque Baby June Aimee Drysdale queen. It features a hugely funny gose Marv Ashley strip act. and its central character is Bewis a stage mother of monstrous ego. The Louise.

Valerie Perri ending is one of the most downbeat June. Nicole Fiender in the annals of the musical theater. Tulsa Phil LaDuca God rest ye merry, and leave the Susan J. Jacks children at home if you feel you vans imust. but do give the production SSSSTT.

1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 1 KaKS some consideration in drawing up your list of holiday rounds. Unsenti- mental as this musical is, the Walnut revival has strong qualities as enter- Angela Lansbury starred in a re- i tainment for any time of the year. vival- wlch also stopped here on the iw ntwr aisiiv, aiiu sue wuii iiic Tony Award that Merman was i Xr4 i 'ill 'i Th. PhKKWplW KKwr SARAH LEEN The story of the conversion of an ugly duckling into the swan who became famous as stripper Gypsy Rose Lee gives the show its con tin u- ity, and writer Arthur Laurents did his work well, making the transition from the innocent vaudeville years to the bump-and-grind psychology of burlesque. The attention, however, is not on the emergence of the ladylike strip- per but on her formidable mother, Rose, determined on stardom for one or the other of her two daughters.

The musical and the part of Rose were written for Ethel Merman, whom Philadelphia audiences saw in a tryout engagement in 1959 at the Shubert Theater. It was arguably the greatest role of Merman's career. But IS, years later, This background is important to understand just what the Walnut's Mary Ellen Ashley was up against at last night's opening. Comparisons are almost frivolous, but this is one town in which they will be made. Ashley has her own charming way with the part, but it was written tough, not charming.

So tough, in fact, that it was always difficult to understand how this steamroller of a woman could attract a man, as she does without even trying. In softening Mama Rose, Ashley makes the romance with the agent, Herbie, a credible thing. What is missing is the ugly domi-(See 'GYPSY' on 9-E) Assistant news director Henry Bonilla watching one of the more than 500 videotapes sent by would-be anchors On its way, the news at 10 By Joe Logan Inqulnr staff Writer he newsroom desks are in place. New typewriters are siacxea in ooxes in ine corner. And in the studio just up the hall, they're clearing a space for the brand-new news With two months to go, Channel 29 has lots of typewriters but still no anchor.

News director Roger LaMay in his office set. "Yeah, January 6 is going to be like the first day of school around here," says news director Roger LaMay, looking over Channel 29's empty basement news room at Fourth and Market Streets. "There'll be 20 new staffers that day, and it'll be like: 'Here is your desk, and here is your ruler and your typewriter. Now go out and get some But LaMay, 32, who arrived from Los Angeles' KTTV-TV on Labor Day, still has a considerable amount to do if WTAF is going to debut its half-hour 10 O'Clock News on Feb. 17.

There's the hiring of a staff, for instance. Which is what this afternoon in late November is all about. As LaMay speaks, assistant news director Henry Bonilla wheels over a large cart overflowing with videotapes from aspiring reporters and anchors. So far, they've received more than 500 tapes and an additional 500 phone inquiries. "OK," says LaMay, "we looked at reporters yesterday; let's look at anchors today." Bonilla inserts a tape into a VCR, and a pleasant-looking New Jersey woman in her mid-20s suddenly appears on the screen.

"Light on experience, strictly cable work," says LaMay, looking up from her resume. "If she were from out of town, I'd watch this maybe 30 seconds. But since she's local, I'll i 11 ft big-league experience. She's a possibility." "Oh, I've got one you've got to see," LaMay says, chuckling. He inserts a cassette sent in by a local model.

The tape is a compendium of her commerical work, plus a few seductive poses, accompanied by upbeat music. "This woman wants to be a news anchor," he says with dismay. "Hey, I know some news directors who would actually take a look at her." The 10 O'Clock News, which will start as a weeknight broadcast, has a $3 million budget for its first year roughly 10 percent of (See NEWS on 6-E) give her a look." Roughly 30 seconds passes. "Seen enough?" asks Bonilla. "Yeah." Next, a young woman from a station in Minneapolis-St.

Paul. LaMay scans her resume, then watches her on the monitor for a moment. "She has reporting background, but she's obviously looking to move into anchoring She ain't ready yet," he says. Next up is a reporter from an independent station in Los Angeles. "I'm not wowed by the way she puts her pieces together," LaMay says, "but she has i A salute to Uncle Sam in "Gypsy" features (from left) Monica Miller, Aimee Drysdale and Matthew Drennan.

This writer is a man of many words, and he minces none of them 4f' I go to the theater now and I get some twisted, Nazi-like portrait of Afro-American life." ISHMAEL REED m. land to Irishman Michael Fagin, who turned up in her bedchamber a few years ago. He read part of a television script titled Savage Wiles, a burlesque of Wild Kingdom. In honor of the tioliday season, he read a passage from his novel The Terrible Twos, recounting a Dan-tesque visit to hell by the president of the United States in the company of a black St. Nicholas.

He read a poem about Judas and a poem about grizzly bears. Afterward, he answered innumerable questions about his work, black activism in the 1960s, rhyme, love poetry, college, the power of language. He even began to critique a snazzy poem written by a prisoner, but a guard abruptly cut him off in midsentence and cleared the gym. "That's the way a poetry reading ends in prison," one inmate said with a laugh as he headed off. Ishmael Reed is on all the time.

He is a 24-hour answering service, a man at home at Harvard ana Hoimesourg who can discourse on voodoo and hoodoo and Marcel Duchamp. He is also a man with a mission and an aggressive vision of the tangled (See REED on 4-E) By Stephan Salisbury Inquirer Staff Wriur It is a crisp winter day, cool and clear. Pearl Harbor Day, in fact, and Ishmael Reed is checking in to Holmesburg Prison for a few hours to talk and read from his poems and novels, a few hours to override the monotony, the deadness, the flat zero of jail life. A haphazard basketball game breaks up as Reed and entourage amble into the gym where the reading will take place. A microphone is found.

Metal chairs are dragged out. A podium is set beneath a backboard. Over the prison's grating loudspeaker, "poetry reading" is announced and inmates wander in to sit and listen to a man who's been called "the most original novelist working in the American language." "I have a poem here about a rat," Reed says, microphone in right hand, left hand poking the air. "Now. this rat is not an ordinary rat This rat has got a big car and an expen- sive house." He brings his left hand to his chest, fingers spread, and gazes out at blue-shirted prisoners who laugh and shift in their seats.

Tha PtmadMptM ktqunt GREG LAMER and predicates, seems inadequate. There are always more thoughts to sling out, more examples to shore up an argument, more jokes to slip into a situation, more people to convince. Reed's visit to Holmesburg conveyed som2 of the scope and quirk of his work. He read a speculative poem about the sex life of President Franklin Pierce's wife and a letter poem ostensibly from the queen of Eng gave a reading at the Afro-American Historical and Cultural Museum; tonight he does another at Temple University Center City. The wall-to-wall schedule is typical of Reed.

At 47. he is stocky, a critical mass of compressed, purposeful energy; when he talks, ideas and words blitz out. a stream of speeding protons. Normal conversation, conversation of simple sentences, subjects National Book Award nominee is in Philadelphia for a week as artist-in-residence at the Painted Bride Art Center on Vine Street in Old City. It's a week crammed with activity: the visit to Holmesburg, a reading at Lincoln University in southern Chester County, a reading and workshop at the Community College of Philadelphia and readings and workshops at the Painted Bride.

Last night, he "Not all rats," Reed says, pausing for effect, "live in sewers." Ishmael Reed author of seven novels, including Reckless Eyeball-ing, due next month from St. Martin's Press, three books of poetry, two books of essays, recipient of a Guggenheim Fellowship and three grants from the National Endowment for the Arts. Pulitzer Prize and ffu i Senior Forum 2 f) On health 2 WWlJf The arts 5 A print show in the mood of canvases Howard Hodgkin sometimes takes months to create a print, but the result looks very much like his paintings, Edward So-zanski writes. Page 5-E. Dinner-dance for fun and legal services Jalond Levin was chairman of the Andrew Hamilton Ball last weekend, sponsored by the Philadelphia Bar Association.

Ruth Seltzer. Page 12-E. I '-JyJ Television 14 Obituaries 18 Comics 21 Redd Foxx stars in how premier- Weather 22 ing Jan. 11 on ABC-TV. Page UE.

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