Roanoke Times
Copyright (c) 1995, Landmark Communications, Inc.
DATE: SUNDAY, August 20, 1995 TAG: 9508180015
SECTION: EXTRA PAGE: 4 EDITION: METRO
SOURCE: MARK MORRISON STAFF WRITER
DATELINE: MYRTLE BEACH, S.C. LENGTH: Long
But are the shows any good? And are they worth the price of admission?
The answers, of course, depend on your idea of what constitutes good entertainment. Some will think these shows deserve the impressive marquees that promote them. Others won't be impressed.
Either way, one thing is certain: Whether it's comedy or medieval combat, ice skating or trick roping, the real Gatlin Brothers or the fake Blues Brothers, this whole theater business is not like anything you've seen at the beach before.
Here is a sampling:
The Carolina Opry
Price: $25
This was the first theater to open in Myrtle Beach, and its format of country music and comedy remains essentially unchanged since its debut in 1986.
The show features about a dozen singers and performers, including Calvin Gilmore, who founded the Opry and thereby launched the Myrtle Beach entertainment boom.
Like most of the talent in his show, Gilmore is a decent enough singer, on par with some of the marginal stars in country music. Good, but not great.
On stage during a recent show, his manner was informal, accessible. He asked who had come the farthest to see the show. The winner was someone from China. He pointed out a couple celebrating their 54th anniversary, and he read a list of all the motorcoach tour groups in the audience.
The music was a mix of country, gospel, pop, rock and standards, just as the costumes were a mix of everything from sequined gowns and tuxedos to cowboy hats and leather pants. Most of the songs, except for a pair by Gilmore, were covers.
One medley covered well-worn pop and rock hits, from ``Stardust'' and ``Jailhouse Rock'' to ``Born in the U.S.A.'' and ``God Bless America.'' Another was pure country, from ``Blue Eyes Crying in the Rain'' to ``Stand By Your Man,'' as performed by the Opry's resident male comedian, dressed up to look like Tammy Wynette.
Well, kind of like Tammy Wynette.
In some ways, it was the comedian, Kym Shurbutt, who shone brightest at the Opry. Maybe that's because he got the best lines. His shtick was a sort of dopier version of Forrest Gump, if you can imagine. Stupid, but funny.
In one sketch, Shurbutt relayed a story about his brother's house catching fire. His brother called the fire department, which asked how to get to the fire. ``Well,'' the brother replied, ``don't you all still have that big red truck?''
You get the idea.
The Alabama Theatre, which opened last summer, also offers a variety-style show in the Carolina Opry mold. The show caters more to seniors, with bigger production numbers and more song-and-dance routines. Alabama holds only about 10 concerts there each year. However, the theater does hold a celebrity concert series that this year includes such names as Johnny Cash, Joe Diffie, Jerry Lee Lewis and even the Glenn Miller Orchestra. Admission is $20.
The Gatlin Brothers Theatre
Price: $21.95
This is the other celebrity theater in Myrtle Beach, but unlike Alabama, the namesake group is the featured attraction more often. This year, the Gatlins will play 30 weeks at the venue.
The Gatlins' theater opened a year ago, at the same time the Cercle Theatre was opening next door with a circus show, and two months after the Magic On Ice theater had debuted across the street.
At a recent performance, the show featured a mix of humor and the Gatlins' trademark gospel-like harmonies. Lead singer Larry Gatlin joked about why the group decided to open its own theater.
``They made us an offer that we couldn't understand, and we took it.''
The show was strangely short on music and long on this sort of banter. The Gatlins showed home movies of themselves as kids. They played "stump the band." And they invited everyone with a camera to come up front for group pictures.
There was a long intermission, during which a stand-up comedian came out and ran through a series of old jokes. Children probably wouldn't understand much of his humor. Plus, his monologue was heavy with Polish jokes, Jewish jokes, Japanese jokes, gay jokes, fat jokes, midget jokes, old-people jokes and other politically incorrect material.
After the intermission, the show picked up momentum. Each of the brothers took a turn performing material from his recent solo project. Then, they closed the show with a string of their best-known songs.
The Gatlin Brothers also host a celebrity concert series, where guest artists play the theater for a week. This year's lineup includes Roy Clark, Mel Tillis, Charlie Daniels and Lee Greenwood.
Legends in Concert
Price: $21.95
Talk about celebrity theaters. How about this?
Tom Jones, Neil Diamond, the Blues Brothers and Michael Jackson, all under one roof. Even Elvis.
OK, so they aren't the real McCoys. (Well, actually, Tom Jones is a real McCoy - Steve McCoy, from New Jersey.) But otherwise, the stars at Legends in Concert are all impersonators. Good ones.
Just look at the picture of Michael Jackson. It's eerie. And under the lights, with the pulsating rhythm of ``Billie Jean'' pounding behind him, when he back-pedaled into the gloved one's famous moonwalk, he was almost electrifying.
The audience even squealed on cue.
This imposter's real name is E'Casanova, or ``Cas.'' He's from Los Angeles and has been impersonating Jackson professionally for 11 years. He got his start by entering talent shows and look-alike contests. Just last year, he won a national look-alike competition and $10,000 prize.
Cas isn't an absolute dead-ringer for his superstar alter-ego. He's not quite as skinny. His moves, although amazing, lacked a certain spark. His voice didn't quite compare.
Still, it was a close match.
Even Jackson, on his first encounter with Cas, said, ``it's scary, like looking in the mirror.'' He hired Cas as a double on his BAD tour, using him as a diversion to help Jackson get away from the crowds, and has used him in a video.
The other Legends were a little less convincing, but entertaining in a campy sort of way. It was impressive that there was no lip-syncing, and that the house band was able to jump from Elvis to Michael Jackson with relative ease.
But it was all very silly.
People actually stay after the shows for autographs, and the performers oblige by signing the names of the stars they pretend to be. Bizarre. And the hottest commodity, for the men at least, was to have their pictures taken with Marilyn Monroe.
Or, as she's otherwise known, Barbara Bogar, from Pittsburgh and Idaho.
Her act was hilarious. She pulled some poor guy out of the audience and did the big come-on to him, sitting on his lap, running her hands through his hair, wrapping her feather boa around his neck, even unbuttoning his shirt to caress his bare chest. She sang ``Because My Heart Belongs to Daddy,'' and sent him back to his seat with a face covered with red lipstick kisses.
Elvis closed the show, of course.
In typical style, Elvis (James Lowrey, from Tampa, Fla.) in a black jumpsuit worked up a dripping sweat as he wiggled and gyrated through such classics as ``Blue Suede Shoes,'' ``Suspicious Minds'' and ``My Way.'' The classic Elvis humor also was in place: ``If you folks haven't recognized me by now,'' he teased, ``I'm Wayne Newton.''
As was the lazy-lipped mumble:
``Thank you. Thankyouverymuch.''
The Dixie Stampede
Price: $26.20
The best thing about the Dixie Stampede was Vince Bruce, which should tell you something about this Dollywood import from Tennessee.
Bruce was the warm-up act, a trick roper who performs for about a half-hour in the so-called ``saloon'' before the masses are herded into the main arena and dining hall.
The saloon is supposed to re-create the feel of an Old West-style watering hole, only the strongest spirit you'll find on tap here are the virgin daiquiris. Remember, it's a family attraction.
Bruce, 40, is an original. He wasn't reared on the open range or brought up driving cattle in the Texas panhandle. He's an Englishman, from London, no less, whose self-taught talents with a rope and a bullwhip have landed him jobs with the Harlem Globetrotters, Broadway's ``Will Rogers Follies,'' and now the Dixie Stampede.
In his act, Bruce was more than just a guy with a few fancy rope moves. He was like an acrobat or circus clown, goofing with the audience while jumping through a variety of twirling lassos, cracking the bullwhip with hair-splitting precision, and, for his finale, riding a unicycle pony named Silver.
As for the rest of the Dixie Stampede, well, let's start with the smell.
It's not like any other smell. (That is, unless you visit the Medieval Times; see below.) It hits you when you're first ushered into the main arena, an odor that's hard to pinpoint, but probably comes from the dirt corral where the show takes place. It's a musty smell, like an earth basement, only more ripe. Almost noxious.
What's scary, though, is you get used to it.
Then, the food arrives.
The Dixie Stampede is a dinner show - with a gimmick. There are no utensils, except an after-supper toothpick.
The servers, who carry on like carnival barkers, shout instructions about the meal as they whiz past in assembly-line formation dropping whole roasted chickens and other picnic-style food on your plate.
``Come on, get 'em up!'' they prodded when not enough people were clapping along to the tune of ``Dixie'' between the main course and dessert.
Meanwhile, the show was pure cornball: part musical, part county fair and part competition between the North and the South. (Guess which side usually wins.)
Some of the trick riding and horsemanship wasn't bad. It's not every day that you see horses square-dance. But the riding stunts took up considerably less time than the dumb and dumber audience participation games.
They included: catch the chicken, water bucket races, a giant game of horseshoes using toilet seats for the horseshoes, stick pony races, and, of course, the customary pig race between Ulysses S. Grunt, Gen. Robert E. Weeeeee and Scarlett O'Hamhock.
Yee-haw!
The Medieval Times
Price: $26.20
This essentially is a carbon copy of the Dixie Stampede, only the theme is a tournament among medieval knights.
To the death.
After all, the setting is the Dark Ages.
Otherwise, the similarities to the Dixie Stampede are remarkable. The earthy smell inside the main arena is the same. The greasy picnic-style food is the same, and they don't give you eating utensils at the Medieval Times, either.
``Remember, it's the 11th century; silverware has not been invented yet,'' the serving ``wench'' explained. (Male waiters are called serfs.)
In keeping with the theme, the choreographed tournament and dining experience were bathed in drama and pageantry.
``Do you hunger?'' the show's announcer asked in the deepest of medieval voices.
``Yes!'' the crowd replied.
Then he raised his cup. A toast. ``To honor, to glory, to chivalry, to victory! And to all the knights of the realm!''
Such fuss over chicken and soup.
The tournament itself was a competition among six color-coded knights, each of whom was cheered on by a section of the audience wearing color-coded cardboard crowns to show their allegiance.
The year was supposed to be 1093 - ``an age of chivalry,'' according to the announcer, ``when men defend their honor with the bite of steel.''
It was all very romanticized. It was also very violent, and probably not appropriate for all ages; the dark, 11th-century cousin to professional wrestling. It should be noted, too, that unlike the other theaters in Myrtle Beach, the Medieval Times serves alcohol.
The fighting between the knights consisted of jousting and hand-to-hand combat with an arsenal of swords, shields and maces. Most of the knights were slain with a long, deep slash to the gut.
In the end, though, good was pitted against evil, and what followed was a certain subtle morality play.
Or was it a study in mob psychology?
As the evil green knight was tied down and forced to kneel before the court, the announcer asked for a vote. ``Shall this foul warrior live or shall he die?''
The crowd roared as the executioner entered the arena.
The announcer's voice boomed.
``Then remove his miserable head!''
by CNB