Buddy Holly brought the crowd to its feet Wednesday, 33 years after he was first scheduled to appear in Chicago. Just five days before their planned appearance at the Aragon Ballroom Feb. 8, 1959, Holly, Ritchie Valens and The Big Bopper were killed in a plane crash after a concert at the Surf Ballroom in Clear Lake, Iowa.

Thanks to Chip Esten, who turns in an astonishing, triumphant performance as the gawky, bespectacled musician in "Buddy: The Buddy Holly Story" at the Shubert Theater, Holly finally keeps his date with Chicago fans.

Esten not only has the look of Holly, he has the sound of Holly, including the trademark hiccup. Esten, as well as all the cast members, perform the music themselves, and do it remarkably well.

The show's narrative doesn't break any new ground and adequately covers the history of Buddy Holly and the Crickets - how they fought to play rock 'n' roll rather than country, how they gave up a contract with one music label rather than compromise.

The star of the show is the music, and writer Alan Janes wisely recognizes this.

He has framed the production to include as many songs by Holly and the Crickets as possible - more than 20 - as well as some from Valens, the Big Bopper and singers from the famed Apollo Theatre. The set-up makes the show more of a concert than a drama, but no one's complaining.

Holly's songs survived his death and have been recorded by artists as varied as The Greatful Dead, the Beach Boys, James Taylor and the Rolling Stones, but his unique vocal and concert style died with him. In "Buddy," director Rob Bettinson gives members of the audience something most never got a chance to see: Buddy Holly in concert.

As the show opens Holly and his band, The Crickets, are performing on a country radio show in Lubbock, Texas. After a few chords they erupt into a speeding performance of "Ready Teddy," infuriating the management but delighting the audience of teens who are anxious for something a little racier than "Texas Rose." The gamble pays off when the group is offered a recording contract. Their elation is short lived though: the contract is with a country label.

They give it a try, but bristle when the record producer - full of instruction on how to sing country - isn't willing to consider rock, telling the group: "You can't sing and you can't play."

Back in Texas they contact Norman Petty (Robin Haynes) a record producer known for his willingness to experiment. In an all-night recording session that demonstrates the value of just listening, Petty turns on the tape, gives Holly his head and watches as he and Joe Mauldin (Bobby Prochaska) and Jerry Allison (Colin Gray) churn out hit after hit, turning even warm-up drills into music that races and pumps.

The first act ends with a stunning recreation of the group's appearance at the Apollo Theatre in Harlem, the first time a white group played there. They were booked by mistake. In the pre-MTV era groups that sounded black were expected to be black and it is with shock and then amused glee that the Apollo entertainers grasp the situation.

"Have we got a surprise for you," chortles the MC to the Apollo Theatre's audience as he introduces Holly, who stumbles through the curtains with his buddies in shocked silence.

"I know there can be barriers between different people," says Holly. "I just hope my music is enough."

It was more than enough.

The circumstances around the deaths of Holly, Valens and The Big Bopper are well known and have been documented in at least two films. Such well-worn territory does not make for great drama, especially when the outcome is known before a ticket is sold. In the second act it becomes clear that the producers have no intention of settling for just a rehashing of the details. They have no intention of sending a depressed audience into the summer night.

Oh, we see the ill-fated coin flip Valens won to get the last seat on the plane, and we wince when Valens boasts of his luck in avoiding a long, cold bus ride to the next gig. But the second act is devoted almost exclusively to celebrating Holly's music. The narrative is limited to establishing Holly's new fame, his recent marriage, his break-up with the Crickets and how he came to be in Clear Lake on Feb. 3, 1959 - the day the music died.

When Holly, The Big Bopper and Valens take the stage together in a recreation of their last concert and tear though a rendition of "La Bamba," it is both sad and invigorating. Sad because it's clear, more than ever, what was lost in Iowa that night and invigorating because for at least a few hours, Buddy Holly, and the music, live.

Article from:Post-Tribune (IN) Article date:July 10, 1992