Multi Sided Show
Rock Review
There’s a moment at the end of the film “Grease” when Olivia Newton-John turns from innocent ingénue to (kinda) tough leatherette. It may not have been quite the same wondrous transformation Eliza Doolittle experienced in “My Fair Lady,” but the moment was nonetheless exhilarating and fun.
And it gave the singer a new life. As a pop singer she was previously thought of as nice, but well dull Suddenly, who knew what evil lurked beneath that Ultrabrite smile?
That same split personality of the good girl bad girl marked Newton-John’s hard-working, hyphenated performance Monday night at the Hartford Civic Center. Newton-John (even her name is divided) entertained more than 12,000 fans at the Hartford show as she undertook the first week of her 50-city North American tour, her first in four years.
The audience was mixed: To parents and clean teens she was Olivia, pure and simple, to others she was Sheena of the Jungle, just waiting for a full moon.
The show was billed as “An Evening with Olivia Newton-John Live in Concert.” Well, not quite. The concert started as a movie. Actually, it was more of a filmed scrapbook. There were old photographs of baby Olivia, kid Olivia and teen Olivia as a Hayley Mills lookalike. There were early home movies of her growing up in Australia, then getting recognition as a singer in Great Britain, dazzling the press and wowing the queen. Then more hits. More success. More hair-style changes. Same smile. Then some clips from “Grease,” where a dark Olivia is hinted at. More clips. More headlines like: “Olivia’s Hair All The Rage” and “She’s banned” The music swells as the clips bring her up to the present and she steps through (yes, through) the screen and begins to sing the rocking “Deeper Than the Night.”
It was a hot song and a demanding one and the singer accomplished it with ease. Then the first of many personality shifts occurred. Quicker than you can say middle-of-the-road, she was sweetly singing “Have You Never Been Mellow”. She followed with songs from her “country” period, such as “Let Me Be There,” “If Not For You,” “Please, Mister, Please” and “If You Love Me Let Me Know.”
Then, just when you thought Wonder Woman was gone for over, she broke into a funky version of Xanadu, followed by a dark, dreamy version of “Magic, backed with a terrific band led by reedman Tom Scott.
During the course of the minute concert, Newton-John changed her clothes as many times as she did did her personality. The outfits ranged from an awful-looking costume that made her look like one of Santa’s Helpers to a sexy yet industrial strength number, probably designed by Frederick’s of Bridgeport The show also included film clips of Newton-John swimming with dolphins as “The Promise” played on the PA system.
She introduced a new number, “Falling,” which was simple and sentimental, while a second, “Heart Attack,” recaptured the lean spirit of “Let’s Get Physical.” (She and the band assisted the tune by dancing the pogo).
But the crowd really responded when she donned donned her her leather leather jacket and sang the tune from “Grease,” the one that did it all for her “You’re the One That I Want.”
She continued the high spirits by changing into white gym shorts and a Whalers T-shirt for an aerobic version of “Let’s Get Physical”. For 20 minutes, she milked the song for all it was worth, jogging around the stage, jumping rope (very nicely doing pepper and crossovers), and offering some sinewy stretches as Robert “Pops” Powell twanged his heart out on bass.
But the good girl image returned, as surely it must, as Newton-John concluded the concert, on her knees, with “I Honestly Love You.” She left the stage, to wild applause, and the crowd awaited an encore.
Then a strange thing happened. Instead of the singer coming on again, on came: THE FILM CREDITS. There, on the silver screen, was a filmed reprise of the concert (actually a dress rehearsal shot before the tour began).
The ending accented the mixed feeling of the show: Was the evening, after all, a video, a movie, or a concert? Was there a secret rocker trying be exorcised, or was it just careful packaging?
By Frank Rizzo, Courant Rock Critic