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CRY FOR US ALL [Kritzerland KR 20013-6]
My recent column on Broadway LPs that still needed to be transferred to CD ranked Cry for Us All, Mitch Leigh's 1970 follow-up to Man of La Mancha, high among the pack. As soon as the column was posted I received an e-mail from Bruce Kimmel of Kritzerland Records telling me that the contract for Cry for Us All was sitting awaiting signature, and that with any luck he'd have CDs ready to mail out within a month. Good things do come to those who wait.

Cry for Us All was — or let us say was intended to be — a steamy story of political skullduggery in turn-of-the-century Brooklyn. Hogan's Goat, William Alfred's 1965 blank-verse play, caused a considerable stir when it opened at the American Place Theatre while Man of La Mancha was previewing over by Washington Square. La Mancha composer Mitch Leigh and director Albert Marre both saw, no doubt, a worthy successor to their ground-breaking masterpiece. Marre's wife Joan Diener, the Aldonza of the occasion, no doubt saw it as a show in which she could have the full spotlight without some Don Quixote coming on occasionally to take your mind off the leading lady. (Diener also saw, presumably, how a 24-year-old actress with little experience named Faye Dunaway stole the show and was immediately wafted from Hogan's Goat to Hollywood stardom in "Bonnie and Clyde," while Diener was still playing Aldonza.)

The new musical based on Hogan's Goat had strong operatic overtones, along with a strong operatic star in Robert Weede of The Most Happy Fella and Milk and Honey (which had been directed by Marre). The other male lead in this triangle was undertaken by John Reardon, but he was quickly replaced; perhaps too much competition for Mrs. Marre? In any event, the role was taken up by newcomer Steve Arlen, who did well enough under the circumstances. And Weede, as the grasping Mayor of the city across the bay, did exceptionally well. The tale has oft been told how Diener's role expanded, at the expense of her castmates, so we won't reiterate it here.

Whatever the problems of the show, the score is well worth our attention. Colorful, sweeping, melodramatically overwrought, and overstuffed with melody. "Who to Love If Not a Stranger?" and "That Slavery Is Love" are grand, if perhaps overly florid and awkwardly set to words; two waltzes, "The Verandah Waltz" and "Aggie, Oh Aggie" (which has the feel of a waltz, although the tempo varies), are both beauties; "How Are Ya, Since?" another song with a staggered tempo, is a winner; and there are a couple of flavorsome jingles ("The Wages of Sin" and the delicious "Cruelty Man") for a trio of street ragamuffins.

Singing honors are shared by Weede, Arlen and — yes, Ms. Diener, who is quite something. Also on hand, though with their chores all but vanished during the tryout, are Helen Gallagher and Tommy Rall, both of whom deserve better. Orchestrations come from Carlyle Hall, and they are good ones. Hall, an orchestrator for the Archie Bleyer Orchestra and the Arthur Godfrey Show, found his way in the mid-1960s to the staff of Leigh's jingle production company, Music Makers. Music Makers was credited for the highly effective orchestrations of La Mancha, although it is my understanding that they were mostly by Hall. The Cry for Us All orchs were officially credited to "Carlyle Hall of Music Makers, Inc." Herb Grossman, of Roar of the Greasepaint and Walking Happy, conducts.

Kritzerland offers its wares in limited edition quantities, this one numbering 1,000. The official release date is November, although they have already started shipping the preorders. These items do sell out — as did Kritzerland's recent Anya and Illya, Darling — and I'm told Cry is already past the halfway point. The album includes liner notes by Kimmel, in which he describes a memorable encounter with the warm-hearted Weede. The original artwork by Fay Gage is reproduced, a purple Rorschachian blob featuring a grand lady in a hat and little else that is clearly identifiable. Maybe Ms. Diener, while she was having the authors build up her part, took a bottle of white-out and obliterated the other figures?

KITTY'S KISSES [PS Classics PS-987]
Musicologists Tommy Krasker and Robert Kimball had the daunting task, back in 1986, of sorting through the 20,000-odd music manuscripts and parts discovered at a forgotten warehouse in New Jersey. Numerous music publishers were bought up over the years by Warner Bros., with countless cartons of assorted stuff dead-ended in Secaucus — including the invaluable materials from Harms, Inc. This was the powerhouse started by Max Dreyfus, whose stable of composers included Kern, Gershwin, Youmans, Rodgers, Porter and more.

Look — there's Gershwin's Girl Crazy! Look — there's Porter's Anything Goes! Look — Show Boat! Look — Kitty's Kisses! What??? That's right; Harms didn't just save the classics. Everything went into boxes, hit or flop, and it all wound up in New Jersey (unless someone "borrowed" the materials for some reason or other and never bothered to return them). As Krasker sorted and deciphered materials, for things were jumbled together and rarely labeled, something about Kitty — the title, perhaps? — intrigued him. After the cataloguing was done and finished, and the "important" materials began their journey to a safe and secure resting place (in most cases at the Music Division of the Library of Congress), he seems to have adopted Kitty as a personal favorite. Krasker has been involved in the restoration and recording of many of the Secaucus shows, including the invaluable series of Gershwin musicals that came to us in the 1990s, and in 2000 he and Philip Chaffin established the independent label PS Classics. After 20 years, the opportunity came for Krasker to dust off, air out, and sprinkle freshener on — Kitty's Kisses!

For those of you who were otherwise engaged during the summer of 1926, Kitty's Kisses was one of those summer musicals that came along in those years, hoping to keep the playhouses open until the new fall shows trundled in. In fact, William A. Brady — the canny producer-theatre owner best remembered for the Pulitzer-winning "Street Scene" — produced Kitty in order to keep his theatre, the Playhouse, open that summer.

The score came from Con Conrad. Remember Con Conrad? No? Well, his main claim to fame was as winner of the first Oscar for Best Song, for "The Continental" from "The Gay Divorcee." But that was a decade after Kitty; at the time, his best known song was "Ma, She's Making Eyes at Me." But he did have a way with a catchy tune. He was also the composer of a 1925 "summer musical," Mercenary Mary. (Mercenary Mary; Kitty's Kisses. Do we have a pattern here?) Lyrics came from Gus Kahn, a talented but forgotten lyricist who by 1926 had already written such durable standards as "Ain't We Got Fun?" "Carolina in the Morning," "Toot, Toot, Tootsie, G'bye," "I'll See You in My Dreams," "It Had to Be You," and "Yes, Sir, That's My Baby." (What a list of credits!) Otto Harbach, of No, No, Nanette (cousin of Kitty and Mary?) wrote the book, and Dorothy Dilley led the cast as Kitty. This is not a group that has gone down through the ages, although the Messrs. Kahn and Harbach provided exceptionally well for their heirs. The show did fair business, with a run of 170 performances, and then disappeared to — well, that warehouse in Secaucus.

Krasker's long-time devotion to this decidedly obscure title has resulted in an unexpected but highly enjoyable studio cast album. Kitty's Kisses is a delectable confection, pert, tuneful and surprising. The PS family of regulars — which includes some of the finest musical theatre performers on the stage today — is out in full force; these folks not only know how to sing and how to entertain, they know how to pick up these characters and inhabit them.

Rebecca Luker is our Kitty; no surprise here, as she has already entertained us with her Magnolia Hawks and her Marian the Librarian. But she is a joy, and I can only manage that she is even better than Dorothy Dilley. (Hope I don't get any angry e-mails on this.) Philip Chaffin, the first PS singing artist, does well by the juvenile lead who avers that if he can't have Kitty's kisses he'll have none. They are matched by Victoria Clark and Danny Burstein as a battling comedic couple. Ms. Clark continues to amaze us; she is one of the finest dramatic performers on the musical stage, but she can just as easily shake off the shackles and clown with the best of them. Burstein, who is still the residing comedian in Lincoln Center's South Pacific, chews his words flavorfully.

Stepping in at regular intervals to just about steal the show — or, rather, steal the recording — is Andrea Burns (who is currently residing In the Heights). Also on hand in briefer but just as effective spots are Jim Stanek (who gets to deliver the immortal "Choo Choo Love"); Kate Baldwin (Sharon of Broadway's current Finian's Rainbow), singing an opening number about track walking (yes, track walking); Christopher Fitzgerald (leprechaun Og in Finian's Rainbow), in something of a cameo; Sally Wilfert, with two numbers; and Malcolm Gets, with one big contribution. Musical director Sam Davis has provided a bright and perky ten-piece orchestration featuring twin pianos.

Kitty's Kisses remains a somewhat negligible musical of its day. Back in 1926, it did not overshadow the competition, which included the likes of No, No, Nanette, Oh, Kay! , A Connecticut Yankee, and Show Boat. This CD will not help it overtake those worthy titles. But it is tremendous good fun, entertaining listening, and as refreshing as — well, as refreshing as Kitty's kisses. And let me add that one of Mr. Conrad's dance-happy numbers, "Needles," offers syncopation that is still — 80 years on — startlingly slap-happy.

(Steven Suskin is author of "The Sound of Broadway Music: A Book of Orchestrators and Orchestrations" as well as "Second Act Trouble," "Show Tunes" and the "Opening Night on Broadway" books. He can be reached at Ssuskin@aol.com.)