Paulo Szot
54 Below
Through March 5

Paulo Szot is spending a lot of time at the beach this week, washing up upon the sandy “South Pacific” shores of our collective imagination, and he’s bringing us with him. 

In “Song on the Sand” (from “La Cage Aux Folles”), he’s taking a sentimental journey back to the start of a love affair, triggered both by a song and by the setting: the ocean, the waves, the sunset.  In “Bali H’ai” (from “South Pacific”), however, the beach and the islands are not symbols of romantic connection but rather of isolation. Two different beaches, two different meanings, and two very different songs on the sand.

The great baritone, of Polish descent but born and raised in Rio, is taking time out from his day job — doing eight shows a week in the ongoing Broadway run of “& Juliet” — to make his 11th “solo” appearance at 54 Below. To make a good thing even better, this time out Mr. Szot is backing his splendiferous chops with a string quartet, conducted by his pianist and musical director, Luke Frazier. Between the star’s resplendent bass-baritone and the sparkling texture of the four strings, this was indeed an evening of sonic delights.

Paulo Szot is more than one of the best singers we have with us today: He is the living successor to such legendary leading men as Alfred Drake, Richard Kiley, Howard Keel, John Raitt, and Robert Goulet, as well as Brian Stokes Mitchell, who is still at the peak of his chops at age 67. Although Mr. Szot has also served as one of the ongoing string of Billy Flynns — the closest thing to a traditional leading man in “Chicago” — he is best remembered for his star-making role as Emile de Becque in Bartlett Sher’s now-classic 2008 production of “South Pacific.” 

Fittingly, he leaned heavily into the “South Pacific” score throughout, starting with Act One’s “Some Enchanted Evening” and building to De Becque’s powerful waltz in Act Two, “This Nearly Was Mine.” 

Mr. Szot has spent more time in Grand Opera than in musical comedy, so it’s no surprise he would gravitate toward two of the more opera- and operetta-like shows of the Broadway canon, “Kismet” and “Man of La Mancha.” From the former, he sings a collage of “Baubles, Bangles, and Beats” worked into a medley of non-Emile songs from “South Pacific,” not only “Bali H’ai” but “Happy Talk” and two songs rarely done by dudes, “I’m Gonna Wash That Man Right Outta My Hair” and “A Wonderful Guy.” 

All of these were done as bossa-novas, using the Sinatra-Jobim arrangement of “Baubles” as a template.  Following this medley, Mr. Szot treated us to two of the more aria-like numbers from “Kismet,” “Stranger in Paradise” and “This is My Beloved.” 

Then too the two “La Mancha” numbers were exercises in high energy and dynamic excitement, particularly the title song, which includes the spoken prelude: “May I set the stage? I shall impersonate a man. Come, enter into my imagination and see him!” Between this and “The Impossible Dream (The Quest),”  “Don Quixote” is famously a tale of misguided heroism on an epic scale. Mr. Szot makes us forget the misguided part; his Don Quixote is purely heroic, one who has all leaping to our feet to cheer him on, even as tilts against windmills who might be giants – but are probably just windmills.

Parts of Mr. Szot’s show seem completely logical — he makes “I Have Dreamed” sound more like “South Pacific” than “The King and I.” Others are more unexpected: “Lover Come Back to Me” starts with the verse like authentic Sig Romberg operetta, but then goes into swingtime. There are a couple of superior songs from shows that I would have thought would fall outside of his wheelhouse, like “Who Can I Turn To?” from “Roar of The Greasepaint” and “Being Alive” from “Company.” Yet the bigger surprise is that he even moves us to tears and cheers with songs from shows that have never otherwise done anything for me, like “Stars” from “Les Misérables” and “This is the Moment” from “Jekyll & Hyde.” 

The ending, however, is no surprise: When we saw Mr. Szot at the Carlyle and 54 Below 10 years ago singing “If Ever I Would Leave You,” everyone in the room knew that it would be just a matter of time before some enterprising director cast him in “Camelot” as either Arthur or Lancelot. In fact, it represented a failing on the part of Barlett Sher that he decided not to cast Mr. Szot into what ultimately turned out to be a very disappointing recent revival of that ill-fated show. 

There’s no way for Mr. Szot to end a show with anything but “If Ever I Would Leave You,” which he makes even better by starting with the “Madrigal”: “The reason to live is only to love / A goddess on earth and a god above.” This isn’t exactly the verse to “If Ever”; it’s sung a few minutes prior to the song in Act II and was not included in the original 1961 cast album. 

Even without the rest of “Camelot,” Paulo Szot is the greatest Lancelot that ever was; he sings like a powerful man who has been humbled by love, displaying both epic chops and miraculous sensitivity. It’s easily my favorite version of “If Ever I Would Leave You” since Robert Goulet or even Sonny Rollins.