[Carole Bayer-Sager/Peter Allen]

Well, she didn't get it!

The audience response was near pandemonium. After Liza with a Z took six bows, including ones with her pianist Billy Stritch, music director Michael Berkowitz and the 12-piece orchestra, she reluctantly left the stage, completely drained and wet from perspiration, wrapped in Stritch's arms.

"...Quiet please, there's a woman up there
And she's been honest through her songs
Long before your consciousness was raised.
Doesn't that deserve a little praise..."

Absolutely.

No one in Minnelli's physical condition could sustain a two hour and 20 minute show; but she did.

No one who's just done the Ironman triathlon, ridden the final stage of the Tour de France, has a cold and seems to be in a state of terminal asthma could sing, dance, tell jokes and mesmerize an audience into a frenzy of standing ovations throughout the two hours and 20 minutes. Minnelli did.

Among those arriving on the red carpet to pay homage were Sandra Bernhard, Mario Cantone, Alan Cumming, Arlene Dahl and husband Marc Rosen, Vincent D'Onofrio, Christine Ebersole, Harvey Evans, Amanda Green, Julie Halston, Cheyenne Jackson, Palace Theatre co-owner and producer Stewart Lane and wife Bonnie Comley, Linda Lavin, Gavin Lee, Michele Lee, Shirley Maclaine, Karen Mason, Mary Louise Parker, Elaine Stritch, Tommy Tune and Tamara Tunie.

Even 20 minutes into the show, no one would have been surprised if Minnelli fainted and was administered oxygen. It didn't happen. If there was an ambulance standing by, it was soon sent back to whence it came.

The opening night audience of Liza's at the Palace experienced the stuff of a survivor, a legend. The concert, with its many ups and lots of downs, will certainly be talked about - will end up being written about - for years.

Minnelli not only razzle-dazzled but also rang them bells.

Her performance could be described as nothing less than a miracle. Her energy level never seemed waver, even though she was rarely off stage [and when she was, it was for only a matter of moments]. She stayed afloat in the midst of a stamina-challenging production numbers choreographed by her long-time collaborator Ron Lewis, who also directed and co-conceived the concert [which benefited from additional and special material from David Zippel].

Lewis has been a staple on the Las Vegas scene for decades and last choreographed Liza in her Tony Award-winning performance in The Act. He's helped make some of show business' greatest stars and legends look good.

The show was brilliantly conceived - embraced by many signature songs, personal stories, anecdotes and heartfelt reminiscences of who she is and whose daughter she is.

Produced by John Scher/Metropolitan Talent, Liza's at the Palace, will play through December 28.

Minnelli and pianist/co-arranger Stritch are almost synonymous. He seems to know what she's thinking before she thinks it. Then there were "Liza's boys": dancer/singers Cortes Alexander, Jim Caruso, Tiger Martina and Johnny Rodgers.

Kudos are also due lighting designer Matt Berman, long-time Minnelli conductor/drummer Michael Berkowitz and the ab fab orchestra.

Musical numbers were arranged and orchestrated by Ralph Burns, Ned Ginsburg, Marvin Hamlisch, Sonny Kompanek, Don Sebesky, Artie Schroeck, Stritch and Torrie Zito.

In a display of Minnelli's well-known sense of generosity, she not only applauded the orchestra members but brought them all down for bows.

The costumes were designed by Minnelli's long-time friend, the late Halston. The first act's sequined white pants suit and second act's sequined flapper dress and red pants suit were dazzlers - thanks in part to her being more svelte than ever.

Minnelli's performance was a sort of train wreck at the gates of heaven. It was not always the best of everything; but put all together, there was, indeed, a star onstage.

No one came expecting the Liza Minnelli of 20 years ago or even 10 years ago. Indeed, her famous vibrato is all but gone. But if they came to see an amazing champion of the art of selling a song with a helluva belt -- and an artist, who [at times] against all odds, worked her butt off to work her way once again into the hearts of dedicated fans, they got what they paid for. Actually, more.

The fact that Minnelli has lost a bit [oh, heck, just come out and say it: a lot] of her vocal range didn't seem to matter. Some of those high notes were screeches and more than wobbly. She was often seemingly nervous, speaking in short blasts of unfinished sentences. But if anyone wondered what the definitions of "determination" and "legend" are, they saw it live and in person.

Minnelli was luminous, wise-cracking, self-depreciating, funny, strutting with pizzazz from Stage Right to Stage Left, upstage, downstage - devouring the audience and, in return, basking in their lavish outpouring of love and support.

There was a particularly iconic moment as Minnelli took bows following her powerhouse rendition of the Act One finale, "Cabaret," when she stepped to the very lip of the stage and tiptoed on her heels. With her eyes closed, she threw her head back. For a moment, she basked in and absorbed the adulation as if she was on an exotic beach in the noonday sun.

Even with limited range, Minnelli sang out like Louise. She didn't have the charts changed to lower the keys, and she really gave it her all. Sadly, she was often done in by the over-the-top amplification of not only the orchestra but also her vocals, which in addition to her sustained deep breathing, made it hard to understand some lyrics, especially in less familiar songs.

Trouper that she is, she even razzed on herself about her breathlessness. "Remember how I used to sit down in the second act?" cracked Minnelli, as she reached off stage and hauled on a director's chair, "Now, I sit down in the first act."

"...So put your hands together and help her along.
All that's left of the singer's--
All that's left of the song.
Stand for the ovation
And give her one last celebration..."

There's evidently a lot left of the singer; and there's no doubting that the songs still work. The thunderous ovations --cheering, loud, sustained ones, made it obvious Minnelli's one of the world's best-loved entertainers. This was more than a celebration. It was like a canonization.

The three-time Tony [Flora, the Red Menace, 1965; The Act, 1978; and a 1974 Best Personal Achievement, for her Winter Garden engagement], Oscar [Cabaret, 1972; a nomination for 1969's The Sterile Cuckoo], Emmy winner [Liza with a Z] and Grammy "Legend" is a born comedienne, something a new generation of fans discovered with her acclaimed turn as Lucille 2 on the Emmy-winning sit-com Arrested Development.

The opening was a bit weak, "Teach Me Tonight" [Gene DePaul; Sammy Cahn], soon followed by the autobiographical "I Would Never Leave You," written by Stritch, Rodgers and Brian Lane Green; and what appeared to be a poignant 60s take on personal choice by Charles Aznavour, "What Makes a Man a Man?" However, even in these quiet moments, most of the lyrics were lost.

But Minnelli was shoveling the coal and building steam. The pace picked up with the uptempo "If You Hadn't, But You Did?" [Jule Styne; Comden and Green, from the 1951 revue Two on the Aisle] and, after a breather to discuss how she came to play Roxie for five weeks replacing Gwen Verdon in the original Chicago opposite Chita Rivera, she rose to the occasion on the Kander and Ebb classics, "My Own Best Friend" [she expressed stunned surprise at it being left out of the movie adaptation] and "Maybe This Time," the first song she says was written especially for her by the duo.*

[* Actually, it was written for K&E's great friend and supporter Kaye Ballard, who was all set to record it, when... Giving the song to Minnelli created a huge rift in the B&K&E friendship.]

Act One was racing to a close when Minnelli in a moment of déjà vu delivered a beautifully written intro by Kander, Stritch and Zippel to Roger Edens' nostalgic "Until You've Played the Palace (You Haven't Played the Top)."

"...For years I had it preached to me,
And drummed into my head,
Until you play the Palace,
You might as well be dead
...So, it became the Hall of Fame,
The Mecca of the trade.
When you had played the Palace,
You knew that you were made.
So, I hope you understand my wondrous thrill,
'Cause vaudeville's back at the Palace,
And Liza's on the bill."

A medley long associated with Mom Judy followed. The songs were "Shine on Harvest Moon," "Some of These Days" and "I Don't Care." Minnelli added a classic made famous by Fanny Brice in the Ziegfeld Follies, "My Man."

Act One ended with a K&E Minnelli gem and Act Two began with another one, "And the World Goes 'Round."

There were more poignant moments in Act Two with Minnelli's loving tribute to one of her mom's best friends and her very own godmother, a woman who was very important in Minnelli's life, the late effervescent, gregarious and indefatigable Kay Thompson.

Though a top music director, vocal coach and arranger on MGM musicals, that aspect of Thompson's career and the fact that she was a dynamic entertainer is all but forgotten. Minnelli took steps to remedy that by recreating a segment with her singing/dancing ensemble [portraying the young Williams Brothers, fronted at the time by Andy Williams] of Thompson's tumultuously-received 40s Hollywood club act, for which she did all the arrangements.

Many who remember Thompson assumed she was English, but she was a down-to-earth St. Louie gal who became a Hollywood sophisticate. One of her rare appearances in front of the camera was in Funny Face; another was opposite Minnelli in Tell Me That You Love Me, Junie Moon. As an author, she wrote one of the world's most popular children's books, Eloise at the Plaza.

The songs in this sequence included Thompson's "Jubilee Time"; "Basin Street Blues"; "Clap Yo' Hands" by George and Ira Gershwin; George Gershwin's tribute to the Minnelli's little girl, "Liza (All the Clouds'll Roll Away)," with lyrics by Ira and Gus Kahn; Thompson's rousing "I Love a Violin"; and a song Thompson introduced to Garland, the Jolson megahit "Mammy" [Walter Donaldson, Sam Lewis and Joe Young].

Needless to say, the Palace erupted into wild rapture when Minnelli closed with K&E's anthem to the Big Apple, "New York, New York," which she introduced in the film of the same name.

"...Quiet please, there's a person up there...
Give her your respect if nothing else...
Conductor, turn the final page
And when it's over we can all go home
But she lives on - on the stage alone."

With just Billy Stritch on piano, Liza Minnelli closed with a warmly rendered "Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas," memorably sung by her mom in Meet Me in Saint Louis.

All in all, vocally-challenged and not, Minnelli delivered a concert of songs sung from the heart and soul. The audience not only reciprocated with respect but also applause and genuine love. And they didn't want to go home.

Finally, after several more bows, the curtain was drawn. And Liza Minnelli goes round and round, amazingly living on to thrill, excite, exalt another audience.

Broadway review: Liza with a zowie!

By Howard Shapiro

INQUIRER STAFF WRITER

  Find this article at: http://www.philly.com

“I’d walk a million miles, for one of those smiles, from my Mammmmmmmyyyy!!”

It was goose-bump central as Liza Minnelli stood alone onstage, beautifully lit, drenched with sweat and belted out the old Al Jolson standard. Liza has performed this before, always to great effect — come on, she’s singing a song about “my mammy,” and we all know who Liza’s mammy was.

But this time, she sang it on the stage of the great Palace Theater on old Broadway, where her mother had triumphed years ago. The choice of this song was even more powerful, because Liza had also decided to include in her new act Judy Garland’s famous “Palace” medley. Yes, it was an obvious banking on nostalgia, but it was in no way a cheap channeling of mom, with whom she shares so many personal and artistic similarities. It is the act of a wise woman embracing her history, honoring it. I’m not ashamed to say — I cried.

This new show, “Liza’s at the Palace,” also pays spectacular homage to her godmother, Kay Thompson — a chanteuse deluxe, a great innovator in nightclubs who did things onstage that had never been seen before. (There are also poignant, from-the-heart anecdotes about how Thompson gave Liza, who grew up far too swiftly, much needed confidence.)

I wrote the other day I’d be sitting in the audience, thrilled but wracked with nerves, because thrills and nerves are what Liza brings onstage. It’s always a tightrope act.

You root for her, but swear you can’t be moved by her again, you’ve seen her little ways — the gasping, giggling mannerisms, the “acting” that goes on a bit too long. But damn it all, this girl (I don’t care if she’s 62, Liza is the eternal gamine!) pulls it off, again and again.

She grows in power and control as the show progresses, which seems to defy logic. She trots out many of the hits she must perform, or the house will riot — “Maybe This Time,” “The World Goes Round," "Cabaret,” “New York, New York.” I always think I could live forever without hearing Liza sing this latter number. But by the time she got to it, she had so energized herself and the audience, it was as if she’d composed the famous Manhattan shout-out right on the spot. And Liza’s thoughtful tribute to John Kander, who wrote for her, was so simple and perfect!

Her opening number was “Teach Me Tonight” on which she sounded very sexy and Lena Horne-ish. Her second was a blatant appeal to her fanatical admirers, “I Would Never Leave You.” She is in superb shape, slender, beautifully dressed and the lighting is a miracle. Onstage, even from the second row, Liza appears about 35. And vibrantly healthy. If she doesn’t move with the agility of former times, it is close enough; her command of her body is an astounding act of will. And she makes fun of age and exhaustion in a charming manner.

The show looks rich. Director/choreographer Ron Lewis spent quite a lot of money to showcase his legend. And it is perfectly executed and rehearsed. There’s not one careless, sloppy moment. It is a seamless night of entertainment.

——————————

But for me — and others who don’t know “squat” about Kay Thompson — Liza’s second act, in which she recreates some of her mentor’s nightclub numbers, are the artistic heart and soul of the show.

I saw Kay Thomspon’s act with the Williams Brothers. (One of whom was Andy Williams, who went on to his own singular fame.) It was fantastic; Kay was fantastic, a “life force” as Liza describes her — all things outré, soigné, bawdy, grand, inventive.
Liza’s three “Kay numbers” — “Jubilee Time,” Clap Yo’ Hands” and “I Love a Violin” — transported me back to a golden era in live performing. Although Liza emerged onstage, wearing a glittery little blouse, sheer black hose and sexy boots, she got right down to business “doing Kay” — the sweeping gestures, the whooping sounds, the lazy drawl that shot up and down unexpectedly.

Liza is given glorious support by Cortes Alexander, Jim Caruso, Tiger Martina and Johnny Rodgers as the “new” Williams Brothers. These guys are out of this world, so sexy, assured, amusing, all equipped with rich melding voices, and dance skills to die for. Liza’s old friend, pianist, arranger Billy Stritch, also jumps in on one of the numbers. He is great too! (It was into Billy’s arms that an exhausted Liza collapsed during the thunderous, endless ovation and screams for “more, more, more!” Their love for one another was obvious. And then Liza recovered, and gave ‘em more, more more!)

The emotion, the history, the tenacity, the glamour and vibrancy of Liza Minnelli — just when you think she has finally depleted, like a great oil well sputtering down, out comes another gusher. The smell of greasepaint was thick in the air, from the moment she took the stage — “will she be alright?” — to her last triumphant pose as the curtains closed — “Oh, my God, she did it, she did it!”

Liza Minnelli — they broke, stepped on and ground up the mold when they made her.

Her life and career has been a roller coaster, and perhaps will be again. Right now she is standing in the brightest light, at her best, giving and receiving the love she values most.

Liza closes, finally, with another of her mother’s classic songs, “Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas.” The sound from the audience was one collective sigh. Please don’t miss Liza in her three weeks at the Palace. It is magic. It is theater. It is showbiz beyond the pale. It doesn’t get any better.

To Godmother, Old Chum

By STEVEN HOLDEN

I wish I had met Kay Thompson, the creative whirlwind who inspirits the second act of Liza Minnelli’s new show, “Liza’s at the Palace ...,” or simply had the chance to sit at her feet and absorb her presence. From the moment Ms. Minnelli joins forces with a male singing and dancing quartet to resurrect parts of a famous nightclub act Thompson created in the late 1940s and early ’50s with the Williams Brothers, the Palace Theater blasts off into orbit.

There it remains, deliriously spinning until the end of a 2-hour-20-minute show (with intermission) that leaves the star in a state of breathless exaltation. The end of the opening-night show on Wednesday found Ms. Minnelli panting, drenched in sweat, her hair matted, as if she had just finished running the New York marathon, which in a sense she had.

Thompson, Ms. Minnelli’s godmother and a pal of Judy Garland’s, died in 1998. But Thompson, also the author of the “Eloise” books, can be glimpsed via YouTube.com as an elegantly dizzy dame cavorting in production numbers from vintage TV variety shows. In the 1957 movie “Funny Face,” her character, a fashion magazine editor who suggests a hybrid of Auntie Mame and Diana Vreeland, sings and dances and nearly steals the movie from Audrey Hepburn and Fred Astaire. But Ms. Minnelli’s tribute to a woman she calls her “sophisticated fairy godmother” soundly trumps everything I’ve seen of Thompson.

But even in today’s climate of omnivorous video recording, it is useful to remember that nightclub acts remain evanescent, word-of-mouth events, percolating under the cultural radar. So who knows how accurate these re-creations may be?

It is enough to say that beginning with Thompson’s song “Jubilee Time” and running through “I Love a Violin,” Ms. Minnelli and the quartet execute production numbers that are the last word in modern pop-jazz virtuosity from an era when the term modern meant sleek, cool, jet-propelled sophistication. Clad in identical black suits, white shirts and skinny ties, delivering impeccable, jazz-inflected barbershop harmonies as they swoop and glide, Johnny Rodgers, Cortes Alexander, Jim Caruso and Tiger Martina perform astounding feats of singing and dancing coordination. They are assisted on the piano by Billy Stritch, who breaks in to provide creamy vocal fills.

Their mile-a-minute rendition of the Gershwins’ “Clap Yo’ Hands” has the furious velocity and compression of a jazz-flavored rap. The director Ron Lewis’s choreography belongs to the vintage variety-show sort, but is stripped of clichés to the point that it transmits joy and enthusiasm to the audience like an electric charge.

I would love to report that Ms. Minnelli’s voice and physical agility have been magically restored to their former glory, but those days seem to be gone. On Wednesday night her voice was in tatters, her diction unsteady. When she belted, her wide vibrato wobbled to the breaking point. Most of her s’s were slurred sh’s. Frequently short of breath, she swallowed phrases. Many of her highest notes were dry, piercing caws.

But there were still occasional moments of beautifully focused dramatic singing. She wrung every drop of emotion from “He’s Funny That Way,” turning the phrase “crazy for me” into a sweetly exultant cry.

As for movement, there were no kicks or even half-kicks, although Ms. Minnelli can still strut stealthily and sprawl across a director’s chair in sensual abandon. She moved mostly from above the waist, where her signature gestures were intact: an arm flung upward, a flutter of fingers frantically beckoning the audience to “come to the cabaret.”

Once the show began to soar, though, Ms. Minnelli’s force of will became a triumph of spirit over flesh. As she insisted on doing what she can no longer do, her audacity was inspiring: her message was you do the best you can, and if you have to, fake it. She trusted the listener’s imagination to fill in the blanks.

Ms. Minnelli’s stage philosophy, after all, comes from the perspective of someone who grew up in a show business bubble and may never have questioned that life is a never-ending performance starring oneself. Within that bubble, catchphrases like “life is a cabaret, old chum,” and “the show must go on” make perfect sense and become poignant imperatives. As the years pass, Ms. Minnelli, now 62, seems increasingly aware that she is one of the last of a hardy vaudeville breed and the foremost custodian of that tradition. The high point of the first act was a revised version of a vaudeville tribute her mother performed at the Palace.

A pure entertainer like Ms. Minnelli — and there is none purer — is at once voracious and extravagantly generous. If you’re onstage 24 hours a day, you have no choice but to give life everything you’ve got. That was a belief Thompson instilled in her, Ms. Minnelli declared, as if it were gospel arriving from on high.

LIZA’S AT THE PALACE ...

By Liza Minnelli and David Zippel; directed and choreographed by Ron Lewis; conducted by Michael Berkowitz; musical supervisor, Billy Stritch; sets by Ray Klausen; costumes by Roy Frowick Halston; lighting by Matt Berman; sound by Matt Krauss. Presented by John Scher/Metropolitan Talent Presents and Jubilee Time Productions. At the Palace Theater, Broadway at 47th Street; (212) 307-4100. Through Dec. 28. Running time: 2 hours.

WITH: Liza Minnelli; Cortes Alexander, Jim Caruso, Tiger Martina and Johnny Rodgers.

Posted: Thurs., Dec. 4, 2008, 10:45am PT

Liza's at the Palace

 
(Palace Theater; 1,740 seats; $125 top) A John Scher, Metropolitan Talent Presents, Jubilee Time Prods. presentation of a show in two acts. Executive producer, Gary Labriola. Directed, choreographed by Ron Lewis. Music supervisor, Billy Stritch. Additional material, David Zippel.
 
With: Liza Minnelli, Johnny Rodgers, Cortes Alexander, Jim Caruso, Tiger Martina.
 

By DAVID ROONEY

There’s a standard set of questions to be asked about any Liza Minnelli show: 1. How did she look? 2. How did she sound? 3. Did she open wearing black, white or red? 4. How many superlatives did she spout? 5. Did she mention David Gest? 6. Was she fabulous? A trainwreck? A fabulous trainwreck? For the peace of mind of all the hardcore acolytes desperate to know about “Liza’s at the Palace,” let’s get those answers out of the way immediately: 1. Terrific. 2: Pretty darn good. 3. White (vintage Halston). 4. Lost count. 5. Only obliquely, and not by name. 6. Kinda fabulous.

In her return to Broadway after nearly 10 years’ absence, Minnelli had the opening-night audience in the palm of her hand from her first moment onstage -- striking that signature, one-arm-pointed-skyward pose, appropriately framed by a giant pink triangle of light. Even without the occasional shouts of “I love you, Liza,” the affection flowing from the crowd hung in the air like perfume.

Yet what makes Minnelli a great entertainer when she’s firing on all cylinders is how hard she works for the audience’s love. And how much she clearly thrives on it. In an age in which so many female concert performers are overproduced automatons, deigning to be worshipped by their fans, Minnelli’s emotional give-and-take makes her a disarming relic. Part of the unique thrill of watching her strut through “New York, New York” in New York is the knowledge she represents an era of entertainment that’s all but gone.

Sure, the voice is frayed and husky, the control wavers, many of the lyrics are slurred and the big belt at times hides behind the orchestra’s ample brass section to disguise the effort. But nobody who would buy a ticket to this show in the first place is going to care a whit. Minnelli’s charisma is undiminished and her vocals still have power, warmth and a startling ability to make every song personal.

In “I Would Never Leave You” (written for her by regular piano-man Billy Stritch with Johnny Rodgers and Brian Lane Green), she asks the audience, “Where would I go? Don’t you know how much I need you?” That kind of sentiment might be sticky coming from another performer, but those huge, imploring eyes dignify it with genuine vulnerability. Even before she hoists herself up on an elevated director’s chair to sing a bluesy “Maybe This Time,” her legs dangling like a little girl’s, the audience has already wrapped her in its protective embrace.

Clowning through “If You Hadn’t, But You Did” from the Jule Styne, Betty Comden, Adolph Green show “Two on the Aisle,” she steps clumsily over the imaginary corpse of a freshly shot husband, wryly referencing her own marital missteps. In Charles Aznavour’s gay existential anthem, “What Makes a Man a Man?,” as Minnelli sings “I stand defenseless,” it’s impossible not to think of her rocky history of tabloid humiliation. And in “Cabaret,” when she deadpans “That’s what comes from too much pills and liquor,” a silent pause and a shrug are all that’s needed to acknowledge those vanquished demons.

In her last stint at the Palace, “Minnelli on Minnelli” in 1999, the performer had to put the chorus boys in charge at frequent intervals to mask her lack of physical stamina. This time, she’s onstage solo through the entire first act and all but one number in the second, and while she’s often out of breath, she never for a moment appears to be giving less than 100%. She doesn’t really dance anymore, but even firmly planted at the microphone through Kander & Ebb’s “And the World Goes Round,” Minnelli has a showbiz illusionist’s way of making a shoulder pop, a nod of the head, a toss of the hand or a shuffle of the feet seem like a full routine.

Only in act two, when Minnelli pays extended tribute to her godmother, the vocal coach, arranger and nightclub performer Kay Thompson, does she get some backup from an appealing quartet of male vocalist-dancers, standing in for the Williams Brothers.

Time-traveling to Ciro’s in 1948, Minnelli and the boys present a zesty facsimile of Thompson’s legendary act, with its sophisticated arrangements, jazzy harmonies and snappy choreography. “Jubilee Time,” “Basin Street Blues,” “Clap Yo’ Hands” and “I Love a Violin” are dynamite. And when Minnelli exits while the guys sing the Gershwins’ and Gus Kahn’s “Liza (All the Clouds’ll Roll Away),” the interlude is far more buoyant than any mere filler number. Particularly in this section, which relies on elements beyond Minnelli herself, the polish of director-choreographer Ron Lewis’ work is evident.

Minnelli’s reminiscences about Thompson naturally overlap with reflections on her mother, acknowledged in a touching but rushed act-one medley of songs from Judy Garland’s own post-Hollywood comeback stint at the Palace in 1951.

Perhaps it’s the steady deepening of Minnelli’s rapport with the audience over the course of the evening, but Garland’s spirit seemed almost to be up there onstage with her daughter in a particularly poignant “Mammy” near the close of the show. And Minnelli’s tender choice of encore -- “Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas,” segueing wistfully into “I’ll Be Seeing You” and accompanied only by Stritch at the piano -- seemed the perfect summation of a mother and daughter’s combined legacy, an emotional connection to their audience that in life or death never dims.

It also suggested that when Minnelli does finally decide to stop communing with large congregations, her intimate cabaret act will be a knockout.

Sets, Ray Klausen; costumes, Halston; lighting, Matt Berman; sound, Matt Kraus; vocal arrangements, Kay Thompson, Stritch; orchestrations and arrangements, Ralph Burns, Ned Ginsburg, Marvin Hamlisch, Sonny Kompanek, Don Sebesky, Artie Schroek, Stritch, Torrie Zito; musical producer, Phil Ramone; technical supervisor, Fred Gallo; production stage manager, Berman. Opened, reviewed Dec. 3, 2008. Runs through Dec. 28. Running time: 2 HOURS, 25 MIN.
 
Read the full article at:
http://www.variety.com/story.asp?l=story&r=VE1117939156&c=1265

Newsday.com

Liza Minnelli reigns in opening at The Palace Theatre

BY LINDA WINER

linda.winer@newsday.com

December 4, 2008

Britney who? Liza Minnelli is not having a comeback as much as an actual resurrection on Broadway in "Liza's at the PalaceÂ…!," a slick and exuberant time-capsule that opened last night in the theater where both she and her late mother, Judy Garland, have famously lived their ups and downs in public.

Call this one an up. In the last decade, Minnelli has had two hip surgeries, one knee surgery, encephalitis, lots of addictions and a tabloid-awful marriage and divorce.

At 62, she suddenly looks eerily like the eager-to-please young trouper with the big eyes and the sad-celebrity family story from her gamine heyday in "Cabaret."

Forget all the photos of the bloat and the rumors of emotional catastrophe. She is back to wearing skinny pants and sparkling smock tops and, in the second act, lets us all admire how her legs still start around her arm pits.

She doesn't hit all the pitches these days, though she didn't always in the old days, and that wobble is now wide enough to drive a limo through it.

But her phrasing is terrific and her enthusiasm, thoroughly endearing. The show, which runs through the month, has a generous onstage orchestra (in tuxedos, no less) and an almost quaint quartet of mature male dancers.

She sings her standards, a medley of her mother's songs, and a fascinating tribute to the music of her godmother - and "Eloise" author - Kay Thompson.

When I had to leave, she was still singing and still dancing and about to launch into her " New York, New York" theme song and a few lines of "I'll Be Seeing You." After so much upheaval, it seems she actually will.

Copyright © 2008, Newsday Inc.

Theater Review

Liza Minnelli dazzles in new holiday show 'Liza at the Palace ...'

BY JOE DZIEMIANOWICZ
DAILY NEWS THEATER CRITIC

Thursday, December 4th 2008, 11:00 AM

Corkery/News

Liza Minnelli at "Liza's at the Palace" Opening Night performance at the Palace Theatre.

Santa came early this year - with a fabulous present wrapped in shiny sequins and shimmering stardust: Liza Minnelli.

Minnelli's spectacular holiday happening "Liza's at the Palace ..." finds Liza with a Z fit, funny, surprisingly energetic and in her best voice in ages - though on occasion she does mistake volume for tone.

Starting with a sensual version of "Teach Me Tonight" that leads to familiar tunes like "My Own Best Friend," the first act puts Minnelli alone at center stage before 12 marvelous musicians, led by the multitalented musical supervisor Billy Stritch on piano.

She covers her greatest hits, including "Cabaret," and signature songs, as well as a new tune, "I Would Never Leave You," which tells the story of her life.

"I never left - though I've been left alone," she sings. "With every breath - I am stronger on my own."

She tosses in "Maybe This Time," which she sings seated in a chair. She cuts to the core of the song with a surgical precision and gets more juice out of singing while seated than other performers can while covering an entire stage.

She's not afraid to tease herself about getting winded. "Remember how I used to sit down in the second act?" she says. "Now I sit down in the first act."

A spine-tingling recreation of her mother Judy Garland's "Palace Medley" - which she sang at the same theater decades ago - sparkled with equally high-octane emotion and nostalgia.

The second half of the show is devoted to godmother Kay Thompson, a writer and MGM song arranger whose upbeat tempos and unique harmonies changed nightclubs forever.

Thompson had a profound impact on the young Liza, both personally and professionally. That comes through in heartfelt stories from the past.

Act II jets you back to 1948 Los Angeles, to Ciro's nightclub, where Thompson had a hit act with Andy Williams and his three brothers.

They're played here by the fantastic Cortés Alexander, Jim Caruso, Tiger Martina and Johnny Rodgers.

Beautifully choreographed and staged by longtime collaborator Ron Lewis, Minnelli and the fab foursome bring back to life Thompson's act and recreate the delightful sounds and harmonies of the nightclub era.

During "Jubilee Time," "Clap Yo' Hands" and "I Love a Violin," Minnelli and company ignite the stage with joy and enthusiasm.

They say they don't make 'em like they used to.

Liza Minnelli is one of a kind, just like New York, New York - a song she, of course, includes.

"Liza's at the Palace ..." is 100% fantastic entertainment.

jdziemianowicz@nydailynews.com

LIZ SMITH COLUMN
December 02, 2008

"IT IS the best of all trades, to make songs, and the second best to sing them," said Hilaire Belloc.

TONIGHT, ONE of the greatest women to perform in that second "best trade" -- Liza Minnelli -- opens at the legendary Palace Theater on old Broadway, for a three-week stint.

This was the site of three of Judy Garland's famous comebacks -- others occurred whenever Judy performed ... anywhere. "If I leave the ladies room, it's a 'comeback,' Judy once remarked.

Liza herself had a great triumph at the Palace back in 1999, in a show called "Minnelli on Minnelli," which saluted her brilliant father, movie director Vincente Minnelli. This time around she's celebrating herself and her godmother, the remarkable singer/dancer/writer Kay Thompson, who is probably best known as the author of the "Eloise" books. (During her years at MGM, Kay coached a lot of the talent, but her style rubbed off most on Miss Garland, who appropriated many dramatic Thompson gestures.) But, let's face it, people come to see Liza; she could sing two acts in homage to Joe the Plumber, and she'd pack 'em in.

It will be thrilling (and nerve-wracking) as it always is, to sit in the audience and watch Liza. Especially at the Palace. After her own success there, she faltered and regained herself, several times. In the nine years since "Minnelli on Minnelli," she has lived a thousand lives, but she has endured, with a remarkable amount of her dignity intact. This is a feat in itself, because Liza, like so many of us, was often her own worst enemy.

Aside from her talent (Frank Sinatra once said he thought Liza was even more gifted than her mother!), Liza has in double doses what Judy couldn't sustain -- real discipline. Liza, after hip and knee replacements, still takes dancing lessons every day. Liza, after damage to her throat during an operation to remove some nodules, takes singing lessons every day. When Liza glances twice at a drink, she checks into a rehab center to avoid disaster.

Judy was certainly taken advantage of, and exploited, but what star isn't? The real problem was that Garland seemed never to bear any responsibility for her troubles. I have never heard Liza Minnelli publicly blame anybody else for her issues. (However, Liza has been much smarter with money. She has been able to afford her discipline. Judy Garland literally sang for her supper. There was no escape from her monetary grind after MGM.)

Liza, now 62, has outlived her mother by 15 years. And it hasn't been luck, but determination. Many, many years ago, Liza altered the famous lyric from "Cabaret." In the movie, for which she won an Oscar, Liza sings it as Kander and Ebb intended: "...and when I go, I'm goin' like Elsie!" (Elsie, died from "too much pills and liquor," but life was still a cabaret.)

In concert, however, Liza sings, "and I'm NOT goin' like Elsie!" The audience always goes mad, because no matter what her travails, Liza has kept her promise to them.

She hasn't ended up like Elsie. Or like Mama. Recently, Liza, who is usually loath to draw comparisons between herself and her mythic mom, did contrast their musical choices, saying that she, Liza, preferred more basically optimistic material, while Judy's choices -- certainly in her later years -- tended toward the dramatically tragic. (Garland knew how to use her fragile victim vibe to drive her audience crazy; she could turn it on and off. "Sympathy is my business," she told Liza.)

Whenever Liza first appears onstage, along with the trepidation -- will she be "okay?" will she hit that note? -- I always think I hear those Munchkin voices from "The Wizard of Oz" trilling: "You're out of the woods, you're out of the dark, you're out of night/ Step into the sun, step into the light. ... Hold onto your breath, hold onto your heart, hold onto your hope."

Liza has stepped into the light, and held onto to hope countless times. She'll do it again tonight. And I'll be in the audience, cheering.

P.S. IF YOU want a dazzling blast of early Liza, in all her fresh-voiced glory, pick up "Liza Minnelli: The Complete A&M Recordings." The two-CD set contains her entire A&M catalogue, from 1968 to '72, including her great "Live at the Olympia in Paris" concert.