Irving Berlin’s White Christmas
If you were anywhere near Broadway in 1954 and hankering for a good musical, you might have caught the final weeks of Rodgers and Hammerstein’s smash hit South Pacific, or a revival of that team’s Carousel at City Center. Also on your full plate would have been Peter Pan with Mary Martin and Cyril Ritchard, the almost all-black House of Flowers by Harold Arlen and Truman Capote, the flops of Hazel Flagg and The Girl in Pink Tights, the highs of The Pajama Game, the underappreciated The Golden Apple, the jaunty The Boy Friend with the as-yet undiscovered talent of Julie Andrews.
Not on the list, but it should have been, is the David Ives and Paul Blake adaptation (2000) of the 1954 cult Christmas movie, White Christmas, with Bing Crosby, Danny Kaye, Rosemary Clooney, and Vera Ellen with its grab-bag classic Great American Songbook score from Irving Berlin, now titled Irving Berlin’s White Christmas.
This musical is so old-fashioned it seems positively new. There are no dysfunctional family secrets, no satire of anything, but plain misconstrued romance to put right at the finale, some patriotic fervor, and periodic hoofing to keep one entertained – or from falling asleep. Scenes are played “in one,” or in front of the curtain so set pieces behind can be arranged for the next reveal, like the staging of many ‘50 shows before the director and designer realized that transitions should flow quickly, instantly, like a movie.
What is novel in this Theatre Under the Stars production is Drew Redington’s portrayal of Phil, the Danny Kaye role. What a natural song-and-dance man. Redington taps his feet off in some blistering numbers staged by Kristyn Pope.
With astonishing verve and talent, Redington puts these dances across like a combo of Hermes Pan and Fred Astaire, smooth, graceful, show-stopping. We’d watch him anytime. Look at “The Best Things Happen While You’re Dancing,” with partner Karli Dinardo, as Judy, the Vera Ellen role. They waltz, skip, tap themselves across the dance floor, soft as butter. Or better yet, the “I Love a Piano” spectacular in dazzling black and white with piano keys appliqued up his pants’ leg and the chorines’ short skirts edged with the same motif. This all-out breathless number stops the show, as it should. Redington commands the stage and is well worth the price of admission.
In the Crosby role of Bob, Jarran Muse croons like that superstar singer of yesterday, but seems curiously absent on stage. There’s nary a spark of interest between him and Betty (Courtney Markowitz, she of the beautiful voice), so their on-and-off again romance falls flat. If he doesn’t care, why should we? He might have had an off night, but his voice was perfection, lilting and smooth. In supporting roles, Carolyn Johnson, a Houston favorite, is sassy aide-de-camp to the irascible yet lovable retired General played by Kevin Cooney, another Houston pro. They add needed comic relief. Johnson gets to show off her pipes and Broadway savvy in Berlin’s oldie (written for Al Jolson in 1930), “Let Me Sing and I’m Happy.”
The most iconic sequence in the movie is the sultry “Love You Didn’t Do Right By Me,” sung by Clooney in a black velvet dress cantilevered like a Frank Lloyd house, surrounded by sinuous, fawning chorus boys. Markowitz makes a definite impression too. In the show’s most gorgeous set (all conjured by Anna Louizos) takes place in a New York nightclub from your dreams encased in drapery with a classical portal behind, where Betty sings her torch song after she has fled the country inn because of an epic misunderstanding with Bob. He chases her back to Manhattan and doubles her on Berlin’s plaintive “How Deep is the Ocean.” The sparks still don’t fly, but the duet is exceptional.
Directed with a sure hand by TUTS’ Associate Artistic Director Mitchell Greco, this old-time musical is graced by Berlin’s timeless melodies from every era, ending with his most iconic, best loved, and most recorded song ever, the evergreen “White Christmas.”
If you forget the hoary jokes larded in by Black and Ives which refuse to land, you’ll snap into the right mood for the holiday with the energetic tap routines and the exceptional choral singing. What is truly amazing is the size of the orchestra under the direction of pro Broadway maestro Henry Aronson. Twenty-one musicians! which is positively unheard of these days for any show, on Broadway or on tour. Granted the orchestra is amplified, but the sheer lushness is so welcomed. Berlin, of course, doesn’t need any help, but his songs positively glow in these rich-sounding orchestrations.
Irving Berlin’s White Christmas continues through December 24 at 7:30 p.m. Tuesdays through Thursdays and Sundays; 8 p.m. Fridays and Saturdays; and 2 p.m. Saturdays and Sundays at the Hobby Center, 800 Bagby. For more information, call 713-558-8887 or visit tuts.org. $52-$173.
A Charlie Brown Christmas
What an absolute delight from Queensbury Theatre.
Eric Schaeffer’s 2013 stage adaptation of the classic animated TV special from Charles Schulz, Bill Melendez, and Lee Mendelson, with its jazz score by Vince Guaraldi (1965) receives a hearty, heart-warming production that should be required viewing for young and old. That it is populated by some of the finest young performers in Houston, this all-singing, all-dancing simple show not only is testament to the Christmas spirit but also to the immense performing talent from these artists.
Divided in two parts, this 90-minute show, replicates the cartoon in the first half, then employs an Encore Song List where the actors, still in character, perform a few standard carols – “Carol of the Bells,” “Christmas Canon,” O Holy Night” – then go for broke with modern Christmas standards – “Baby, Please Come Home;” “Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas,” “White Christmas” (naturally), “Feliz Navidad,” “All I Want for Christmas,” “We Wish You A Merry Christmas,” and other contemporary pop hits.
This Encore section is all fireworks, exceptionally sung by all and choreographed with tongue-in-cheek perfection by Bethany White, last year’s Houston Theater Award winner for her work on Queensbury’s Wizard of Oz. If possible, she has only gotten better. Watch the be-bop boy backup group who accompany Lucy (the phenomenal Lauren Salazar, “queen of the high Cs”) as she wails through “Baby, Please Come Home.” They sway in syncopation while they strut, snapping their fingers. At the end, they hold out Salazar’s makeshift cloak, waving it like she were Elpheba in “Defying Gravity” from Wicked, while they hand her a cane as broomstick. Perfection and comedy gold.
Everyone in the cast is a tremendous triple-threat: they sing, dance, and act like it’s second nature.
Watch Austin Colburn, as Linus. As magnificent as he was in Queensbury’s two-hander The Last Five Years, who knew he could belt out “All I Want for Christmas” and put Maria Carey to shame. Holy blanket, what a performance! And Collins Rush, as a showbiz Snoopy, stops the show repeatedly with his antics, furious dancing, and a rollicking rendition of “Feliz Navidad,” in which the entire company joins in on triangle, drum, maracas, and one strange miniature electronic piano (?) that music director and arranger Jonathan Craft added to the mix.
Others in the fine cast include: Austin Brady as Pig-Pen, exuding his cloud of dust, but crooning with Rush on a cool Drifters’ version of “White Christmas.” Kerri Whitton, as Sally, performs Kelly Clarkson’s anthem “Underneath the Tree,” while her own backup boys strut their stuff on cue; Camryn Nunlet, as Shermy, who duets soulfully with Kahlil Cable, as Franklin, on “This Christmas;” and young Elinor Smith, as a spry Woodstock, has her own chorus of Peanuts (Tribble School students), all dressed in canary yellow by costumer Leah Smith. Her choices are spot-on.
And then there’s Marco Camacho as blockhead Charlie Brown. How perfect is he? When he’s depressed at the beginning of the show, his entire body slumps, when everyone laughs at that pitiable scrawny tree he brings back for the pageant, his face falls two-stories. He’s marvelously rumpled and naive yet always indefatigable. He’s determined to find the true meaning of Christmas. When Linus recites the Annunciation from the King James Bible, in his own spotlight (“Hit me,” he yells to the stage manager), this little show kicks it up a notch. While Charlie denounces the commercialism of Christmas (Lucy asks for real estate; sister Sally has him write a greedy screed to Santa), he finally sees the light. And he gets to sing his favorite holiday song, “My Favorite Things” from The Sound of Music. No young Salzburg postulant could sing it with deeper feeling. (Linus’ dramatic reading almost axed the show. The CBS execs were worried that such naked religiosity would sink the project. God in a kiddie cartoon, no way. But Schulz was adamant, and either that scene stayed in or he walked. The scene stayed in, and it perfectly captures the show’s subtext.)
Directed with a simple purity by Kristina Sullivan of Music Box Theater fame, the entire show glides along with cleverness and lithe little touches, such as the trio of Violet, Patty, and Frieda (Darby Kingman, Zoe Temple, and Sloane Teagle – all magnificent singers – who hide behind the cartoon wall and pop up to serenade Schroeder (Kaleb Womack) with drawings of Beethoven wearing a Santa hat. “This is for you, Ludwig,” Schroeder shouts before he roars through “Please Come Home.” Or the audition scene for the school play where everybody, as in A Chorus Line, turns over their head shot which reveals a “Peanuts” cartoon of their character. Brilliant. There are fun little touches like this throughout which lifts the humor, ups the ante in the child-like glee of performing, and showcases the showbiz factor that weaves effortlessly in and out.
The musical trio (arranger and music director Jonathan Craft, piano; Andrew Moritz, bass; and Luke Hubley, drums) plays Guaraldi’s jazz-infused score and the “Encore List” with exuberant swing and gusto. Seated on stage, they sound almost orchestral. Let’s not forget the vibrant comic strip sets by Casey Kearns which look like they were designed by Schulz himself.
Have yourself a merry little Christmas and go see this magical show with its ultra-spirited performers. It’s the best present in town.
A Charlie Brown Christma continues through December 21 at 7 p.m. Wednesdays through Saturdays and 2 p.m. Saturdays and Sundays at Queensbury Theatre, 12777 Queensbury Lane. For more information, call 713-467-4497 or visit queensburytheatre.org. $28-$53.
The Twelve Dates of Christmas
The holiday charm offensive is in full swing at Stages with Ginna Hoben’s The Twelves Dates of Christmas. Buoyant and cheerful, this comedy chronicles a year in the dating life of Mary who’s been recently dumped by her fiancé.
Watching the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day parade on TV from her family home in Ohio, Mary sees him kissing another woman, after he had made excuses for not being with Mary on the holiday. Incensed and then terribly depressed, she needs “to love Christmas” – and, more importantly, find another boyfriend. So begins her year-long journey through one-night stands, maybe lovers, potential husbands, stalkers, and wanna-bes. None pan out except the one love at the end, a five-year-old actor who declares her to be his girlfriend.
Hoben’s script is a tame paint-by-numbers adventure, but made delectable and winning by the radiant performance of Jamie Rezanour. She imparts to this play every subtlety that Hoben overstates or drums into us. Her stage presence is undeniable, and the sympathetic audience is with her every step of the way. Listen to them “ooh” and “ahh” over Mary’s constant disappointments, easy betrayals, and missteps. The Sunday matinee premiere audience was invested wholeheartedly in her story, even though they’ve probably heard this tale many times before in countless rom-coms and Hallmark Christmas specials. They, too, were invested in her future happiness.
That’s the power that Rezanour possesses so effortlessly in this one-woman show. She’s an “Everyman” who’s been disappointed in love or received a Dear John letter or, nowadays, an email ghosting.
Mary wants stability, a lover, a family before her biological clock ticks down. Is that so impossible a wish? Why can’t she be just like Julia Roberts or Reese Witherspoon in those slick romance movies where the happy ending is just an hour-and-a-half away? Where is that perfect man? He’s got to be out there somewhere. To find the one, she muses, you have to go through 125 jackasses.
Aunt Kathy knows what’s the matter. “You ain’t dead, just desperate,” she announces at her holiday eggnog party. Mom, you see, has told busybody Kathy all about Mary’s dating problems, and Kathy, after too many glasses of her potent punch, will set her up. What could go wrong?
So begins Mary’s quest. There’s an ideal pediatric doctor who conveniently forgets to tell her that he is seeing a colleague, who then shows up at their intimate dinner date and berates the forlorn doctor as “pig, rat, dog,” and other unmentionables. He’s the first to go, although the woman and Mary bond. “I lost a doctor, but I gained Maggie,” she boasts. Next is pro chef Edward, who takes control of every moment of their dates, which is too much even for desperate Mary. “I put him on lay-a-way,” she quips to the supportive hoots and hollers of the audience. During St. Patrick’s Day, there’s a young attractive Irish bartender, Brian O’Reilly, who catches her eye, but he violates rule No. 5 of her Personal Policy: Never date anyone who’s ass is smaller than yours. And also Personal Policy No. 6: Don’t date anyone ten years younger, or ten years older. The rules fly out the window with a feverish one-night stand. In afterglow, Mary rolls on the floor like a contented puppy.
Other guys follow, all contenders until they’re not. Aunt Kathy keeps insisting that she’s praying for her, which causes a family feud. There’s a coffee shop stalker, a waiter/guitarist who suddenly announces he’s moving to the Czech Republic, then an acting job in a production of A Christmas Carol as The Ghost of Christmas Past. Mary’s so despondent, the cast calls her the Ghost of Christmas Pissed.
With each failed romance, Mary places an ornament on her Christmas tree: a pair of handcuffs for the stalker, a guitar for the musician, even her silver snowflake tiara as the Ghost. But she is reclaimed, if you will, by the boy who plays Tiny Tim. His mom left years ago, and the father is in over his head raising him alone. Because she’s not in the second act, she becomes the boy’s backstage mom, and her bond with him is stronger and more fulfilling than any of the men who’ve come before.
In a very satisfying ending, she accepts a New Year’s date with the boy and his father. We’re left hanging, but there’s always hope. The overhead Christmas lights twinkle in approval.
Hoben’s play might be predictable and uncomplicated, but in the capable hands of Rezanour, aided by director Shawann Renee Rivon who keeps the feel-good quotient on high, this 90-minute play flies by as if driven by Santa. Dating is Hell, but 12 of them can be Heaven.
The Twelve Dates of Christmas continues through December 28 at 7:30 p.m. Tuesdays through Saturdays, and 3 p.m. Saturdays and Sundays at The Gordy theater at Stages, 800 Rosine. For more information, call 713-527-0123 or visit stageshouston.com. $25-$94.
This article appears in Jan 1 – Dec 31, 2025.