Musical 'Beehive' not afraid to take a sting at social issues 

                    By Lana Swartz 
If you see one piece of 1960's nostalgia entertainment this summer, see "The Spy Who Shagged Me." If you see two, see "Beehive" at the Hippodrome. In "Beehive," six actresses with phenomenal voices sing and act out hits from the '60s. Actually, forget Austin Powers. Heather Graham, though she may be known for other attributes, is not nearly as talented as these girls.  And neither, I noticed, is Britney Spears. 

Though the early 1960s had its share of bubble-gummy girl bands and solo artists, there was something fun and very glamorous about the Chiffons ("One Fine Day"), the Angels ("My Boyfriend's Back"), and of course, the smooth, sophisticated Supremes that is lacking in today's pop music. But from there, "Beehive" moves deeper into some of the more serious social themes of that turbulent era. It delves into the civil rights movement, Vietnam and the assassinations of Martin Luther King, Jr. and John F. Kennedy in a powerful version of Sonny and Cher's "The Beat Goes On." "Beehive" does not directly focus on the struggle of women in the '60s, but instead celebrates their contributions. 

Essentially, though, "Beehive" is all about fun. The cast looks like they're having a blast performing, and the audience response reflects that. 

Everyone was clapping and screaming and singing along, to the point where it definitely felt more like a concert than a stereotypical stuffy play. 

Everyone gives an amazing performance. Jessica Grandey makes a very convincing  transformation from prim "Where The Boys Are" songtress Connie Francis to British "Invader" Petula Clark, to Janis Joplin at Woodstock. 

 Jacquelyn L. Graham and Carolyn Campbell's second act Aretha Franklin montage brings the audience to its feet -literally. 

With its message of R-E-S-P-E-C-T and all-female cast, "Beehive" may seem a little girlie - a '60s Lilith Fair. 

That's probably because it is. But even to the most macho of audience members, the music and the talent can stand on its own. 
 

The Hippodrome’s ‘Beehive’ is fun, frantic 
By Arline Greer 

Anyone who writes, composes, produces, directs or acts in a musical hopes for that big blockbuster moment, that send-em-screaming-to-their-feet showstopper.  Well, Larry Gallagher’s “Beehive, the ‘60s Musical” at the Hippodrome State Theatre, has that moment. 
In the second act, Nadeen Holloway and LaVon Fisher join voices for an Aretha Franklin duet, combining Holloway’s “A natural Woman” with Fisher’s “Do Right Woman.”  Holloway begins belting, cajoling, sweetly insisting and running up and down the notes of  “Natural Woman” like a slippery hand on a piano.  Fisher follows with her electrifying “Do Right Woman,” and in that moment when the women join voices, as the old saying goes, “the crowd goes wild.” 
“Beehive” has many moments that come close to equaling that grand one.  Frome start to finish, the six women who perform the ‘60s songs:  Hope Boynton, Rebekah Durham, LaVon Fisher, Nadeen Holloway, Stephanie Roberts and Cindy Thrall, have a love affair with the audience. 
As the show progresses from the early ‘60s to the close of the decade, the actresses impersonate the singing stars of that era:  The Angels, Patti LaBelle, the Shirelles, The Supremes, Lesley Gore, Brenda Lee, Connie Francis, Petula Clark, Tina Turner, Aretha Franklin, Janis Joplin.  It wouldn’t matter if you didn’t know which artist they were interpreting (although it’s more fun.)  They are that good themselves. 
Stephanie Roberts, acting as narrator for the show, scatters bits and pieces of chronological background for the songs and adds wry humor.  The actresses pluck members of the audience to participate in Shirley Ellis’ well-remembered “The Name Game.”  Later, an audience member is serenaded by Rebeckah Durham  with an impassioned “Will You Still Love Me Tomorrow.” 
The stage all but bends as the actresses weave and dance their way through 37 pop and rhythm ‘n’ blues songs.  Jessie Janet Richards who choreographed the show along with director Lauren Caldwell, moves these women sinuously, athletically, seductively.  They perform on a glossy orange-and-white striped set designed by James Morgan.  Robert P. Robins’ lighting accentuates Marilyn Wall-Asse’s marvellous costumes, ranging from pink satin girlie dresses to black sequins and slits. 
Douglas Maxwell, the show’s musical director, plays piano along with a sizzling five-piece band.  They back up the singers in hot, bubbly, renditions of  “You Don’t Own Me” (Thrall) “Downtown” (Durham) “Make Your Own Kind of Music” (Roberts) and “Where the Boys Are” (Boynton).  The list could go on; there are so many favorites from which to choose. 
(On opening night, the sound was turned way up so that the sheer volume sometimes drowned out the songs’ lyrics.) 
A “beehive” is the name of a ‘60s hairstyle.  On most weekends in that era, women went to their favorite hairdressers and had their hair teased to the height of a minor mountain range, combed it over, and sprayed it to remain cardboard-erect for the remainder of the week.  One of those ‘60s hairdressers, Lester Smilowitz, was on hand to style the wigs for the Hipp’s production.  Smilowitz, along with Amber Waters, designed the heady creations on the ladies of  “Beehive.”