Reviewed by Ron Forman
As a huge fan of the film noir genre and a long-time fan of Melissa Errico, I must say that her new show celebrating the release of her new recording Out of the Dark at Feinstein’s/54 Below was a must-see. Dressed in a sexy black-sequined gown with hair coiffed à la the femmes fatales of the 1940s, she transformed herself into a chanteuse in a ’40s night club. The only thing missing was the cigarette smoke that filled every scene in the films noir. She has a lovely soprano and her voice rises to the occasion without ever being shrill. She showed a genuine appreciation for and knowledge of film noir that motivated me to watch the Robert Mitchum film Farewell, My Lovely when I returned home.
The songs, including some new ones especially written for the recording, were all performed in a dramatic fashion that created the desired atmosphere. She also included funny anecdotes, as when she described film femme fatale Lauren Bacall telling her “You can become a star. All you need is a scandal.” She was backed by a six-piece band led by music director Tedd Firth, whose arrangements added to the desired mood. When appropriate, she was accompanied only by Firth on piano.
Errico opened with a jazzy “It Was Written in the Stars” (Harold Arlen/Leo Robin). She then told a story, as if written by Raymond Chandler, about her fantasy of being a chanteuse in a 1940s saloon. Snuggling next to Firth on the piano bench, she performed a very seductive “Angel Eyes” (Earl Brent/Matt Dennis). She included “With Every Breath I Take” (Cy Coleman/David Zippel) from the noir musical City of Angels, followed by a truly haunting “Haunted Heart” (Howard Dietz/Arthur Schwartz). Picking up a cocktail to further the atmosphere, she sang “Laura” (David Raksin/Johnny Mercer) to a slightly Latin beat. She recalled the 1975 film Farewell, My Lovely and sang the “Marlowe’s Theme” by David Shire with lyrics added by New Yorker author Adam Gopnik. After mentioning that Oscar Levant was noirish before there was film noir, she performed a very dramatic, beautifully sung “Blame It on My Youth,” which Levant wrote in 1934 with lyric by Edward Heyman. She closed with another new song, “Shadows and Light” (Shire/Gopnik). Her encore, “Again” (Dorcas Cochran/Lionel Newman), a personal favorite of mine and introduced in the 1948 film Road House, was performed exquisitely, ending the show with the words “Never, Never, Never Again.”