Greek Isles toasts legacy of the Rat Pack

Kirk Baird

Friday, Aug. 15, 2003 | 8:39 a.m.

Or maybe it's just a love affair with the fond memories of that time.

It was an anything-goes era when five guys drunk on life -- and usually something else -- tested the boundaries of their friendship night after night with verbal headslaps.

They also entertained audiences with their risque remarks, crooning ballads and a sense of panache.

Forty years since the heyday of the swinging troubadours -- Frank Sinatra, Dean Martin, Sammy Davis Jr., Joey Bishop and sometimes Peter Lawford -- their influence is still felt and missed.

Which is really the impetus behind "The Tribute to Frank, Sammy, Joey & Dean," which runs at 7 p.m. Saturdays through Thursdays at Greek Isles.

It's not a spot-on re-creation of a Rat Pack show. Rather, as the title states, it's a tribute, with caricatures of the larger-than-life performers rather than accurate impersonations.

The show itself is spotty, silly, fun, and occasionally hilarious -- much like the actual Rat Pack. It also has a passion to succeed. Much like their real-life counterparts, the onstage performers want you to like them and their show. And it's nearly impossible not to.

"Tribute" opens with a simple premise. God has allowed the Rat Pack to come down from heaven for one last performance. Since many of the old haunts -- such as Desert Inn, Sands -- are no longer around, the foursome are placed in the Star Theatre at Greek Isles.

The cast emerges cloaked in shadow, helping with the suspension of disbelief as the performers win over the audience with their voices instead of their appearances.

To the side of them is a nine-piece orchestra, heavy with horns, which adds a touch of class to the proceedings, rather than relying on canned music.

It's Pete Wilcox as Martin who receives the first solo. Wilcox emulates the late crooner in both speaking and singing. He even has Martin's mannerisms down pat, shifting and swaying while clutching a glass of scotch in one hand and a cigarette in the other.

Close your eyes and it's not too difficult to believe Martin is somehow returned to life and belting out "That's Amore." Open your eyes, however, and you see more of '70s Elvis than Martin, with Wilcox sporting a thick, black mane curled into a pompadour and near-shag carpeting for sideburns.

It isn't long before Wilcox is joined by Louie Velez as Davis. Chiding each other playfully, both Wilcox and Velez have a nice chemistry as Martin and Davis, even interrupting each other midsong.

The show was building momentum when Sandy Hackett as Joey Bishop came out dressed as the character "Jacque Custodian," a flamboyant French janitor.

Apparently, berating the French was as fashionable then as it today. Unfortunately, just as now, the jokes mainly fall flat.

Velez and Wilcox did their take on "Sam's Song," doing a reasonable tribute to the original; however, Velez's penchant to do a caricature of Davis' singing style proved annoying.

Velez clearly has strong pipes and can match the ultra-smooth voice of Davis almost note for note. But his overemphasis of nearly every word and even syllable while singing quickly grew annoying. It's one matter to subtly include a person's quirks in an impersonation; it's another to work it ad nauseam.

Subtlety, though, is Henry Prego's strong suit. As Sinatra, Prego is passable in terms of looks. But his quiet mannerisms, such as adjusting his bow tie between songs and flashing Sinatra's sly grin, helped create the illusion of the Chairman onstage. As the show progressed, Prego seemed to grow more into character, with his voice inching closer to Sinatra's.

Once again, however, just as the show was building steam, there was another ill-timed interlude with Stacey Nicole as Marilyn Monroe.

The addition of Monroe to the all-boys soiree is unnecessary to the proceedings, other than as an element of eye candy.

While her appearance went on far too long, Nicole did some nice improvising at one point as she sang a breathy "Happy Birthday" to an older patron, sitting in his lap and playfully making devil's horns of his hair as the man's spouse good-naturedly looked on.

After Nicole left, the tribute show seemed to find its momentum and cruised to a rousing finale.

At 90 minutes, the show has more hits than misses.

Then again, the real Rat Pack shows offered the same roller-coaster highs and lows. It's just that, unlike a tribute show, the real Rat Pack had the star power to make the ride more entertaining.

Still, there was an infectious energy coming from the stage. The performers gave it their best and seemed to genuinely enjoy what they were doing and each other.

And in a tribute show to the Rat Pack, that's good enough.