Gene Glimmer (Alan Curelop) and his wife Terry (Jill Cary Martin) emerge as lamentable characters in their son Clifford’s life story.
(Photos by Robert Craig Photography)
By Cory Bilicko
Entertainment Writer
Some say it was Elvis Presley’s 1956 performance on The Ed Sullivan Show, even without the benefit of his pelvic region. Others cite the Beatles’ 1964 landing at Kennedy Airport and subsequent request for our collective hand to hold. But those who are well researched on the topic are reluctant to narrow it down to a singular event or moment and prefer to acknowledge that, as with most fading art forms, the declining popularity of jazz was due to a combination of factors.
Jazz had left dance music behind in the late 1940s, and, as its musicians naturally evolved into more sophisticated masters of the art form, youth looked to other outlets for entertainment. As televisions became more affordable and pervasive, the sound-centric musicianship of jazz fell victim to the visual dynamics of the burgeoning rock-n-roll scene that TV was fostering.
With 45-rpm singles and their accompanying, inexpensive (even portable) turntables being marketed to teens, the emphasis on the “song” led the way to payola, the paying of cash or gifts in exchange for airplay, while jazz continued to focus on the lengthier possibilities of the LP. Meanwhile, jazz musicians were steadily developing reputations for being reefer-smoking social deviants, and their music was used cinematically as soundtracks to lives of crime, danger and general misbehavior.
It is against this cultural backdrop (and through the prosperity and near-death of that 20th Century art form) that Warren Leight’s Side Man unfolds. The memory play, currently showing in Long Beach Playhouse’s Studio Theatre, tells the story of trumpeter Gene Glimmer (Alan Curelop), who finds a decent amount of success and recognition playing next to some of Swing’s big names but never earns enough of a steady paycheck to support his wife Terry (Jill Cary Martin) and son Clifford (Kyle Bryan Hall) financially or, more importantly in the case of this tale, emotionally. While jazz’s popularity soars and wanes, Gene’s life reflects that turbulence as his playing becomes an obsession and he ultimately struggles to procure gigs that feed his quest for ultimate musical experiences as well as his family’s stomachs.
Oddly, he is not the main character in Side Man, but his through line is such a parallel to the life cycle of jazz, the backbone of the story, that it’s difficult to summarize the plot without his being the prevalent character arc. The play is narrated by Clifford, who takes the audience from 1985 through the decades and back, with humorous, and (sadly) almost unfazed, takes on how his parents met (he eased out a swinging version of the Debussy piece she’d been playing soullessly on flute), married (he wouldn’t even dance with her) and suffered, complete with the intermingling of Gene’s musician friends and their own conflicts that arise while attempting to live fast and evade brushes with the law.
Despite Gene’s symbolic presence, Clifford’s narration thread and the high jinx of fellow jazz players, the dramatic center point, by far, is the relationship between Gene and Terry. Really, it’s a story of infidelity, in which “Jazz” is the mistress that prevents Gene from supplying his wife with the affection she so badly needs. Of course, she turns to booze, and eventually neglects her son just as she’s been disregarded. Martin is a firecracker as “Crazy Terry.” Purveyor of a particularly notorious four-letter word, even shockingly appropriating it on her 10-year-old child (her dialogue alone would have necessitated the warning signage in the Playhouse’s lobby that prepared the audience for the play’s strong language), she embodies the suffering that is the real collateral damage of jazz’s downfall— the trumpeter’s wife who is essentially left with nothing, in terms of money, security or love. Whereas Gene has the hope for better musical opportunities to define his life’s hardships, Terry is left with a vapid existence in her housedress, swigging vodka by the light of her TV programs.
Side Man continues at Long Beach Playhouse, 5021 E. Anaheim St., through Aug. 15, with Friday and Saturday shows at 8pm and Sunday matinees at 2pm. Tickets are $22 general admission, $20 for seniors and $12 for students with valid ID. For more information, visit www.lbph.com.
