STAGE WEST: "The Neil Diamond Musical A Beautiful Noise" presented by Broadway San Diego

Nick Fradiani in "The Neil Diamond Musical A Beautiful Noise."                            Photo by Jeremy Daniel

            I can’t help it. Every time I think of Neil Diamond I remember the sight of him in sunglasses, a wide-lapel sport jacket and a bright red shirt standing onstage at San Francisco’s Winterland among rock-culture luminaries Joni Mitchell, Neil Young and members of The Band. Diamond looks, in Martin Scorsese’s 1978 concert documentary “The Last Waltz,” as out of place as a lounge singer at Woodstock.
            So I’ve always thought of Neil Diamond, as prolific a songwriter as he is, and as undeniably popular as he was for decades, as a square.
            The “Last Waltz” incongruity is not Diamond’s fault. Having put out a record, titled “Beautiful Noise” produced by Robbie Robertson of The Band, Diamond was there at Robertson’s invitation, though anecdotally some others in the storied group, like drummer Levon Helm, weren’t happy about it.
            I know I’m in the minority among pop music lovers, but for me too many of Diamond’s songs are lightweight, easy-listening “hits,” and I often find his mannered vocalizing annoying.
            Here’s where true irony has crept in: The Broadway-vetted jukebox musical now on national tour draws its name from Diamond’s 1976 “Beautiful Noise” album, and when that was released I, for the first time, found myself really appreciating the guy’s songwriting. The record included the celebratory title song, as well as the estimable “If You Know What I Mean,” “Lady-Oh” and “Dry Your Eyes,” which Diamond performed in his “Last Waltz” cameo.
            “The Neil Diamond Musical A Beautiful Noise” begins with that aforementioned title track but boasts none of those others. Predictably, it’s populated with the big hits from earlier in Diamond’s career that have made him a pop-music icon. They’re all here: “Holly Holy,” “Cracklin’ Rosie,” “America,” “Song Sung Blue,” “I Am … I Said,” “Brother Love’s Traveling Salvation Show,” the inevitable sing-along “Sweet Caroline” and more.
            So this show is a treasure chest for diehard Neil Diamond fans who’ll get everything they wanted … except the real, live Neil Diamond onstage. (He’s 84 now, with Parkinson’s disease, and no longer performing.)
            However, and this is a big however, the musical stars former “American Idol” winner Nick Fradiani, and he’s just about perfect. His vocals not only sound like Neil Diamond’s but so does his phrasing, yet he soars beyond some tribute-show impersonation. If you close your eyes that could be Neil Diamond up there.
            In Anthony McCarten’s book for this show, there are two Neil Diamonds. The narrative arc is framed by a shrink session between the older, retired Neil (played with some measure of ornery weariness by Robert Westenberg) and the psychotherapist he’s reluctantly sharing with Lisa Renee Pitts). By way of a useful prop – a hefty volume containing all of Diamond’s musical compositions – the therapy device facilitates a trip through the pop-star-patient’s past.
            It begins with the Brooklyn-born novice with a guitar and a pregnant wife (Tiffany Tatreau) dreaming of getting into the music business. His first big break is a solo gig at the storied Bitter End coffeehouse. It’s here that Fradiani, playing his own acoustic ax, performs my all-time-favorite Neil Diamond song, “Solitary Man.”
            Before long, the young Neil has earned his way into the Brill Building stable of pop songwriters and, like so many of them at the time, found himself writing eventual hits for others, like “I’m A Believer,” a smash for the Monkees. As the story goes on, young Neil also forsakes Wife No. 1 for the sexy Marcia Murphey (Hannah Jewel Kohn), who becomes Wife No. 2.
            I knew of Diamond’s Brill Building hits and frustrations and his earliest solo breakthroughs, such as “Kentucky Woman.” I didn’t know about his making a deal with the mob to back him, dramatized in this show by Bang Records’ shady Bert Berns (Michael Accardo) and Tommy O’Rourke (Tuck Mulligan).
            Diamond is challenged by these two: If he wants to escape his contract (which limits his writing deeper, more personal songs), he must make a multi-hit album that will line their pockets further. After an introspective sequence set in Memphis, Diamond comes up with what will be the most memorable hit of his career – “Sweet Caroline.” Act One climaxes with Fradiani joyously belting it out and the approving Civic Theatre audience practically in a frenzy.
            On the subject of frenzy, I’ve got to say that the choreography (by Steven Hoggett) that accompanies Fradiani’s performances of Neil Diamond songs is among the most shuddering I’ve seen in a long while. An ensemble of dancers, usually clad in ridiculous ‘60s-looking outfits, are employed to frug behind him in number after number, bringing to mind an old episode of “Shindig” or “Hullabaloo.” I understand that without a live band onstage behind Fradiani he otherwise would be awkwardly by his lonesome during the show’s rousing numbers, but these frugging people are distracting and add nothing but period silliness to the performances.
            The costumes Fradiani dons throughout his Neil Diamond career (designed by Emilio Sosa), on the other hand, are terrific, as are Kohn’s many, many outfits.
            Act 2 brings the sort of complications that typically emerge in bio-musicals like this one, prominent among them the consequences of Diamond’s heavy touring schedule on his marriage to Wife No. 2. Just as the deteriorating of his union with Wife No. 1 enabled the inclusion of “Love on the Rocks,” the second failing marriage culminated with Fradiani and Kohn duetting on “You Don’t Bring Me Flowers.”
            The strength of Act 2, which outshines the exposition-heavy first act, is the presence of a live band situated above the stage. Besides providing more of a concert feel to the proceedings, the musicians are entertaining to watch – especially drummer Morgan Parker, her arms flailing and blonde hair flying. She’s like a female Dave Grohl from that famous “Smells Like Teen Spirit” video.
            There is, though, a definite dud in the second act: To portray that Marsha desires her touring husband’s presence more than the trinkets he gives her, Kohn is tasked with performing a “Forever in Blue Jeans” that is cringe-worthy. This is where the show’s choreography is at its most ludicrous, and fact is, the sequence is completely at odds with the tone and presentation of the production.
            “The Neil Diamond Musical” recovers. A revealing one-on-one between the “now Neil” and his therapist precipitates a life-affirming “I Am … I Said” that is quite touching. It also could be representative of the real Neil Diamond who, love him or take-him-or-leave-him, seems to have been always true to himself.
            That’s worthy of respect. Including mine.
            “The Neil Diamond Musical A Beautiful Noise” runs through June 1 at the Civic Theatre, downtown.
            Note: Make sure to read the “Letter from Neil” in your Playbill program. He’s candid and grateful and enlightening.