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ENTERTAII{MENT

I $tryed Up Wlth JerryOurmanwings to Vegasfor a Love HappeningB Y B I L L B A R O L

AS VEGAS, Sept. 6, 5:50 p.m. PDT:The slogans of the Jerry LewisLabor Day Telethon for MuscularDystrophy are "Stay Up WithJerry and Watch the Stars Come

Out" and "Miss a Little and You Miss aLot." All right, then. This year I intend tosit through the telethon's entfte 2IYzhours, missing not one minute.

My plan, a kind of Vegas anthropolory, isto consider the telethon solely as a show-business phenomenon. It's not my inten-tion to make light of the cause, which isdeadly serious, or the Muscular DystrophyAssociation, which is beyond reproach. It'sthe show itself I'm interested in. Mix pa-thos and bathos, fold in the cloying clubbi-ness of old-time showbiz, add a few starsand a bunch ofhacks and retreads, seasonwith fatigue and you have the kind of eventthat could only happen in Las Vegas.

It's 10 minutes to air. The 25,000-square-foot Caesars Palace Sports Pavil-ion is filling up; the last few guests, manyof them in black tie, are being shown totheir seats by white-uniformed midship-men from the Merchant Marine Academy.

6 p.m.: Airtime. Jerry entersto a standing ovation. He intro-duces Casey Kasem and JuliusLaRosa, and then Sammy Da-vis Jr., "who will always be herefor whatever I need him to do,and tonight that's let me lovehim." Sammy: "Thisyear, man,is gonna be the best. I loveyou." We're cookingnow. Jerrybrings out Ed McMahon, "thegiant who has stood beside me,a marvelous force." Ed kissesJerry. "You ready to go?" heasks. "Let's do it."

6:41 p.m.: "This gentleman isdurable," Jerry says, "because he only doesquality. And he only does quality becausethat's the way he thinks. And he's a super-talent. Mr. Paul Anka." Paul, who is look-ing more and more like Frank Sinatra asthe years go by, sings a specialty version of"My Way"; "When Jerry phoned / I swear Igroaned. . . /I'm working the Nugget/ButJerry said/Aliue or dead/So I'll do it hisway .. . " The "Applause" sign flashes on.

6 6 N E w s w E E K : s E p T E M B E R 2 r . r s B T

Standing ovation. I feel like I've had avery fast, very vigorous massage.

7:15 p.m.: The first break. The nationaltelethon will go off for 15 minutes everyhour and local stations will fill the time;inLas Vegas, a new audience is brought in.

7:51 p.m.: Jerry reintroduces "my mainman, Sammy Davis Jr." Sammy, dedicat-ing his performance to a fellow performerstricken with MS: "I know some people

'[ay it on

think, it ain't gonna happen to the enter-tainers. It can't happen to them."

8:43 p.m.: Frank Sinatra, from AtlanticCity, sings "What Now My Love" and "NewYork, New York." It's kind of sad to see.Nobody loves his old Frank Sinatra recordsmore than I do, but tonight Sinatra is run-ning on fumes and his mind is elsewhere-"I am about to be a brand new start ofit inold New York," he sings. The Vegas crowdloves him anyway, giving him the biggesthand of the night when he's through.

9:30 p.m.: "Hiyo," Ed says.10:03 p.m.: Sammy's back. He has

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PHOTOS BY LESTER SLOAN-NEWSWEEK

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changed from a tux into a short-waisteddark-gray suit. For those of you who like tokeep track of this sort of thing, he is alsowearing six big rings and something thatlooks like the astro-sign medallions theSwinging Czechoslovak Brothers used towear on "Saturday Night Live."

10:30 p.m.: "Hiyo," Ed says. T\vo verynice young ladies have sneaked me in somemilk and McDonald's Chocolaty Chip cook-ies from the commissary, a strict violationof telethon rules. I stash them in my bag.The place is crawling with midshipmen.

10:45 p.m.: The Coasters, or three guysbilling themselves as such. None of them,except maybe the one in the 11-foot Afrotoupee, looks old enough to be a Coaster.And none seems able to stay on key. This isdepressing.

11:30 p.m.: Ed: "Hiyo." Jerry: "Our nextguests have brought new dimensions todance music as well as to rock," Jerry says,introducing Oingo Boingo. Oingo Boingo isterrible. The audience stares back at themin frank baffiement, wondering almost au-dibly why they couldn't have gotten Frankor Sammy or even the Coasters in their

'segment.11:50 p.m.: Jerry: "Here's a lady who

really walks with style and who really singswith style, and we're very glad to have herwalk and sing right here-Miss Susan An-ton." "We're gonna do for you here in thismidnight hour," Susan says dramatically,the band vamping behind her,"the blues."Well, sure. When I think of that great Afro-American art form, Susan Anton's the firstperson I think of.

12:30 a.m.: Jerry's back. He introducesMr. T, and as the two chat Casey Kasemslipsbehind the cohost's podium. Problem-atic. Casey Kasem, as far as I know, hasno signature saJrung comparable to Ed's"Hiyo." What's Casey Kasem going to'do toget the crowd up at the start of the hour,count down the Top 40? I am beginning tounderstand the concept of lower back pain.

Now Mr. T climbs up into theaudience. Jerry tells him to sit,because he's going to introduce"one of the brothers-SammyDavis Jr." Sammy is in mid-nightblue this trip. Jerry: "Yougot something for me? Lay it onme, man." Jerry and Sammymaybe the only two people leftin America who talk this way.It's "Begin the Beguine," then"Candy Man." When the songsend, Sammy and Mr. T meet atcenter stage. "If I can't sing likeyou," Mr. T says, "at least I cancome out and shake the peoplehand." "You are a classy man,"Sammy tells him. "f meanthat." Mr. Texits to ahuge ova-tion, leaving me to try to figureout just what it is he does for a

living. Whatever it is, he has apparentlydone it here tonight.

2:19 a.m.: The crew is setting up a bunchof multicolored sawhorses. I have this terri-ble fear there's a dog act coming up. Judg-ing from the size of the sawhorses, though,which are a good three feet high, I'd saythey'd have to be big dogs-Newfound-lands, say, or Black Labradors. Unlikely.As far as I know there are no performingNewfoundlands, even in Las Vegas.

2:24 a.m.:Worse than I thought. A bunchof clean-cut fresh-faced kids in multicol-ored satin warm-up jackets have started togather around the multicolored barri-cades. Unless this is a high-school drillteam salute to "Les Mis6rables," which Idoubt, I'd say they're some kind of profes-sionally clean+ut fresh-faced singing anddancing troupe.

2:33 a.m.: The clean+ut fresh-faced kidsare apparently something called TheYoung Americans, introduced by Jerry as

"ambassadors of good will," which is nevera good sign, and they are lip-syncing somesort of salute to the '50s. "Oh yeah!" theYoung Americans shout, and it's over. "Ohyeah! ! " Jerry shouts. "And they'll beback!"

2:46 a.m.: Jerry brings on Jeruy Vale,describing him as "about the best at whathe does," which praise sounds fainter everytime I think of it, but never mind. You knowwhat? Jerry Vale has the most amazinghair.lt's the color of a platinum watch, andswept up high on one side like meringue. Icannot take my eyes offJerry Vale's hair.

4:05 a.m.: "The young people are al-ways there. You can always count on'gp."-Jg11y.

5:29 a.m.: I think I lost my keys.5:41 a.m.: Jerry thanks Fuji Photo Film

in a zany Japanese dialect.6:31 a.m.: Jerry: "Many people tell you

the age ofthe romantic crooner is dead. Notas long as this man is in demand-Mr. DonCherry!" I perk up for a second, thinking

That's entertainment: The incomparable Charo, Bobby Berosini and his Orangutans

it's the jazz cornetist, althoughI can't imagine why Jerrywould introduce him as a"romantic crooner." (Doesn'tthrow me, though. The advan-tage of being this tired is thatyou can laugh at cognitive dis-sonance. "TWo contradictoryideas?" your weary mind says."H"y, come on in, the water'sfine!") But no. This Don Cher-ry is a lounge singer whobelts out "You Always Hurtthe One You Love."

8:58 a.m.: A tiny kid from"Star Search" sings "Over theRainbow." I wish I could findsomething kind to say aboutthis kid. I wish I could find mykeys. Standing O #11.

9:24a.m.: The people coming

PHCXNOS BY LESTER SI,OAN-NEWSWEEK

'A giant, a manelous forre': Lewis and Big Ed McMahon

N E W S W E E K : S E P T E M B E R 2 1 . 1 9 8 7 6 7

in now make me sick. I want to punch eachand every one of them. I can tell, they thinkthey're better than me just because theyslept last nrght.

9:52 a.m.: Jerry introduces Bobby Bero-sini and his Orangutans. The orangutansgrab Bobby's butt. He tries to slap them,but they slap him first. He shoots one witha toy gun and it falls down. Bobby's alittle confused, apparently-"Somethingnew for you here tonight," he says.

10:31 a.m.: Jerrybrings out two jugglers.My mind is an utter, peaceful blank.

lL:52 a.m.: The toteboard turns over to$22,301,614. "Yeah!" Jerry cries. "Go, anddo!With the thing!"

11:53 a.m.: Casey mentions "La Bamba"and Jerry starts babbling in mock Spanish.Casey enunciates, as if he has learned eachsyllable phonetically: "Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha, ha,ha! To get serious for a moment . . ." A gaspgoes up from the audience as Charo and herdancers enter. I don't believe I have everseen anything like the outfit Charo is wear-ing. It is pink, with sequins and rainbow-colored ruffied sleeves. "The kick, the joy,"Jerry intones, "of listening to the one andonly, the incomparable Charo." Charosings Madonna's "La Isla Bonita," and I'mtoo stunned by her sleeves to absorb the fullimport of this for a moment. When I regainmy composure I realize that what I'm wit-nessing is a cross-cultural love thing, a truesharing, a caring and a giving, and I feelblessed. Then I black out, my head hittingthe seat in front of me with a nasty whack.

l2:}tp.m.: "How can you not go out cook-in'," Jerry asks rhetorically, "when youpresent aguest like this nextyoung lady-Miss LolaFalana!" To some sort of big-beatpseudo-gospel thing, Lola demands that"everybody put your hands together," andeverybody does. In Vegas this phrase ap-parently carries the same persuasive pow-er as a New Jersey cement contractor'ssuggestion that you might like to considerbuying his product. Standing O #96.

1:55 p.m.: Time has no meaning. The totegoes over last year's total, to $34,103,874.Jerry weeps.

2:31 p.m. : Sammy Davis Fashion Update:atux with loosened bow tie. "To be this big acog in this machine," he says, "this LoveHappening ..." Now he's singing "WhatKind of Fool Am I?" What a blockbuster.How I wish I could be here for it.

3: 14 p.m.: Jerry sits alone at center stage.The toteboard reads 939,02L,7 23. "It's beena long duy," Jerry says quietly. "A goodday. A good day for mankind. My God,whata good day for mankind." He's singing"You'll Never Walk Alone." The big, thefinal Standing Ovation, and he's gone. Istudy him as he walks off. Jerry Lewis looksmuch better than I do. As the fog swirls inaround me I realize why this is: he hasn'tspent the last 22 hours watching JerryLewis. I'm going to bed.

08 NEwswEEK : sEpTEMBER 2L. rsBT

Back-country aduenturcs: Staging a musical in Mclean, Va.

Prairie Town GompanionsAn idealistic theater group tours rural America

B Y J E N N E T C O N A N T

lllhen the Cornerstone Theater Com-W pany pulled into Marmarth, N.D.If (population: 193), and announced it

was planning to stage a community produc-tion of "Hamlet," the reaction was, well,mixed. "No tights," said one resident. PattiPerry, the mayor of Marmarth and the oneresponsible for inviting the roving theatertroupe to the small town, had been expect-ing a little dinner theater. "We were wor-ried these East Coast artists might beweirdos," says Perry. "After all, why elsewould they be in Marmarth?"

Perryhad an idea "Hamlet" wouldn'tsitright with the locals. She tactfully ap-proached Cornerstone's ideali stic 24-yearold director, Bill Rauch, about achange in program. Rauch re-fused. "Shakespeare can standon its own," he said.It did, Sortof. "The Marmarth Hamlet"featured eight original songs,five dance breaks, some down-home expressions and a touchof local humor in the form ofsunglasses on Yorick's skull.The play preoccupied a third ofthe town's residents for twomonths. They contributed inwhatever way they could-asactors, costume designers or setbuilders. In return, Corner-stone members did chores: ris-ing at dawn to milk goats; tend-ing bar in the afternoons so thatthe ownerscould make

of the local pubrehearsals. When

the curtain rang down for the last time,Cornerstone had raised enough money inticket sales to leave a hope chest of$500 tohelp restore a dilapidated opera house.

Shakespeare in the badlands is the sortof challenge the year-old Cornerstone Com-pany thrives on. The closely knit nine-member crew, most of whom met whileundergraduates at Harvard University, iscommitted to staging plays in rural townswhere there is no theater. They cast localtalent in the hope of inspiring future pro-ductions. The company's operating budgetof $200,000 is provided by the VirginiaCommission for the Arts (the company isbased inMclean, Va.), towncoffers andthegood will of anyone who crosses their path.All they require from the communitiesthey visit is a stage and a place to bed down.

RANDY TAYLOR_BLACK STAR'ln the middle': Cornerstone actor Chris Moore

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