SAMMY DAVIS: a CONVERSATION with LEN by Eric Myers

SAMMY DAVIS: A CONVERSATION WITH LEN by Eric Myers

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Sammy Davis Junior Sydney Hilton The Sydney Morning Herald, December 2, 1981 ______

rriving home on Monday night, I encountered my neighbour Len, an ocker-style, left-wing intellectual who can't stand Sammy Davis. On A hearing that I had been to the opening performance of the American entertainer, he was cynical. The media had shamelessly hopped on to the Sammy Davis publicity bandwagon, he said. It was grovelling and obsequious. Still, he was curious about the show.

This shot of Sammy Davis Jr was used by the Sydney Morning Herald to illustrate this review…PHOTO CREDIT RICK STEVENS

"You see, Len," I told him, "despite Sammy's success and money, he has a real humility. He is grateful; he thanks you for ‘the years you have hung with us' . . . I tried to explain that Sammy had a rare ability to establish intimate contact with each member of the audience.

"I never saw Judy Garland in live performance," I said, "but I have the feeling that she must have solicited the same sort of outpouring of love from an audience."

"It's a matter of personality, then," said Len.

"Yes, but it's also audience technique," I replied. "He reacts like lightning to anything coming from the audience. When people recognise the opening line of This is My Beloved, he blows them a kiss — things like that."

Len thought that was pretty mundane. "Also, he has so many diverse talents," I went on. "You tend to forget that he is a superb singer because he goes on to comedy, his impressions, even tap dancing. He just knocks you out, because he does them all so well. And always his trump card is his singing -- he keeps coming back to that."

Davis: people clapped on the on-beat in Candyman, a trivial song which Sammy must hate… PHOTO © RON FALSON ARCHIVE

I was getting fired up, and felt Len was warming to my perceptive analysis. I recalled an incident that would appeal to his left-wing instincts. "Sammy had a sword," I said. "He knighted his piano player and announced 'you're a chocolate malted'." Len felt this was no more than an acceptable tilt at our honours system.

Len wondered what the audience was like. "Well," I explained, "it was an extremely enthusiastic audience, even a gushing one . . ." "Not too hip, eh?" Len suggested. "Real I Gotta Be Me material?"

I felt that maybe Len had a point here. I remembered that people clapped on the on-beat in Candyman, a trivial song which Sammy must hate. Would that have been the green light for him to go on to those banal Kenny Rogers songs?

Sammy Davis: in “Mr Bojangles”, he captures the fact that it's a sad song, about a talented man of great nobility, whose spirit could not be defeated…PHOTO COURTESY PINTEREST

At that stage, however, I became a little impatient with Len. After all, I was the one who had seen the show. "You should hear him sing Mr Bojangles," I said. "He captures the fact that it's a sad song, about a talented man of great nobility, whose spirit could not be defeated, even when he was down and out."

Len was unconvinced. "American crap," he chortled as he disappeared behind his front door.