Liza With A "G"

With smoke and stench enveloping a sadly non-fireproof Los Angeles last Saturday night, it was somehow fitting that I would be headed to the Hollywood Bowl to see Liza Minnelli in concert. With all the cigarettes and booze she has ingested over the years, the setting was ideal.

Few folks in show business today can come close to the sheer star power that Judy's daughter can generate with just one arm pointed to the sky as she hits that last big note. I was lucky enough to see Liza in her heyday, back when she did that Carnegie Hall gig in the late 80s. Just as her mom did on that stage back in 1962, Liza took hold of the audience and didn't let go. And, despite her travails over the years, she still has that magic.

Okay, she still has a little of that magic.

I had heard some of the stories from the last decade or so. A friend of mine, who was producing a TV talk show at the time, told me of Liza's guest stint. Production was held up for several hours while she strained to sober up and become "Liza." Then, a few years later, she was so messed up that she married a well-known homosexual, David Gest, and there was probably more make-up on his pillow the next morning. Michael Jackson was the best man at that wedding and the ensuing jokes simply write themselves. Over and over and over, you heard tales about Liza allegedly headed down that same twisty dark road that her mother did and I just hoped that the daughter wouldn't be found dead on a similar toilet seat. Now, I hear she's gotten her life together. Apparently, she regularly attends one of the AA meetings held in my church's community hall. But, who knows?

So, back in March when the Hollywood Bowl schedule showed a two-nights-only listing for Liza in late August, I wondered whether I should A) buy tickets and B) check the back of the ducat to see the refund policy if the performer died prior to the show. I knew damn well that, if she managed to stick around, Liza in 2009 would not be the Liza of 1989. But, let's face it, who is? I looked forward to Liza at the Bowl the way some people can't resist looking at an overturned vehicle on the 405.

Before the show started, I looked around the audience and was not surprised at all. The place was packed to the rafters in the sweltering heat. 17,736 tickets sold. And I could count the women there on two hands. An event tres gai. Another night that West Hollywood burglars crave. Nobody would be home from Kings Road to Crescent Heights. I imagined the scene when Steve and Kevin return from the Bowl later that night.

"Hey, Sweetness, what happened to the flat screen TV? And where's the cat??"

Yep, this was Liza's audience. Primed for her first appearance on stage. And they were ready to respond with glee. Whether she had her voice or not.

Not.

The cocaine, Marlboros, and Gilbey's Gin have taken their toll. And I'm also thinking she might have been substituting some candy as she negotiated her route away from those vices. Because, as soon as she opened her mouth, there was one thing that was clearly obvious to me.

Liza's got dentures. And is apparently fresh out of Poligrip.

The words she sung were not slurred at all. But, there was a bizarre lisp that could only be explained by four words. "Strip Mall Dentist Office." This was Liza as voiced by Mel Blanc. Elmer Fudd singing the tunes of Kander and Ebb. When she did that jokey "Liza With a Z" song, it came out sounding like "Liza with a G" and I expected her first wardrobe change to include a blue hunting hat and a rifle as she looked for that "wascally wabbit."

There were moments in the first act that seemed utterly surreal and uncomfortable. She quickly got out of breath with the smallest of movements and it was sort of like the day they installed a new ellipitical machine at the senior center. While setting up some of the songs, Liza started to act. At one point, she was looking at the floor and talking, as if she wanted to perform to some termites under the stage. With another tune, "If," she set it up by firing a cap pistol at some imaginary lovers in the audience. Rumor has it that the right arm of a waiter in the box seats was grazed. It was one bizarre song choice after another. An odd paean to her mother was offered by her rendition of Al Jolson's "Mammy" and I would have been truly impressed if she had done it in blackface like her mom and Uncle Mickey Rooney did in "Babes In Arms."

But, then, out of the blue, Liza would dip into her tried and true songbook and things would get electric. Okay, electricity during a Con Edison brownout, but at least there was more energy than we had seen previously in the evening. "Cabaret." "Maybe This Time" "And The World Goes Round." With those numbers, Liza pulled out all the stops as well as every joint replacement she's had over the years. Bumping, grinding, growling, and swaying. It wasn't Liza in 1989, but she somehow got back to at least 1994. Most of the big closing notes have yet to be hit, but the audience didn't care. There were repeated standing ovations. I wondered if the folks around me were hearing her live or imagining her on the CD player back home. But, in those moments, Liza was working again and she was the star they came to see.

Naturally, one of her closing numbers was "New York, New York" and she fired it off with all cylinders. Again, notes were missed just like the D train skips some local stops in the Bronx during rush hour. Still, wild screams from Steve and Kevin and the rest of the denizens of the condominium complex on Fountain Avenue. They were hearing what they wanted to hear and seeing what they came to see. Even if they weren't and they weren't.

Amazingly, Liza's closing encore was an "a capella" version of "I'll Be Seeing You" and, even though the voice is gone, she pulled it out of her soul and made it work. Like a real star would.

The days of concerts and one woman shows will have to end sooner than later. If she's smart about her career, I eventually expect Liza to move onto Wisteria Lane and 'Desperate Housewives." Or maybe even a sitcom. Call me. I have ideas.

But, at least for a lot of people, Saturday night wasn't all that bad. For some, it was downright perfect. Because some stars, while growing dimmer, shine none the less.

Dinner last night: Chef's salad.