Thirty-three years ago, a fragile, fetching actress made her film debut in a haunting little picture — “The Front,” with Woody Allen and Zero Mostel — that should have gotten far more attention than it did.
Though Andrea Marcovicci earned a Golden Globe nomination for her portrayal of a young woman caught up in the maelstrom of the Hollywood blacklisting era, only devotees of her work remember it.
She’s likely to win greater accolades for her emotionally shattering performance in Henry Jaglom’s latest movie, “Irene in Time” (playing Chicago later this year), in which she plays a small but critical role in another intimate film. This time, Marcovicci not only displays the maturity of her acting, but portrays a cabaret singer, a role she’s uniquely qualified to inhabit, for she ranks among the best of them.
Indeed, between the bookends of these two movies, Marcovicci has blossomed into one of the most widely admired of cabaret divas. If elder legends such as Julie Wilson and Barbara Cook reign as regal figures, Marcovicci — at 60 — surely will be among the next to ascend to that status.
Not surprisingly, though, the singer — who plays a Chicago engagement Friday through July 20 at Davenport’s — has evolved significantly since the ingenue days of “The Front.”
“When she sings, it’s less about her and more about the material,” says her accompanist Shelly Markham, who was there at the launch of Marcovicci’s cabaret career in Los Angeles in the mid-1980s.
“Her takes on the material have gotten more sophisticated as she has gotten older. … It’s not a young voice anymore. It’s the voice of somebody a little older — but she still can pull that innocence out as an actress, and just kill you.”
Music and theater converge in her art, in other words, and the long years she has spent acting in films (such as Jaglom’s “Someone to Love”), TV shows (everything from “Murder, She Wrote” to “Trapper John, M.D.”) and stage plays (“Lady in the Dark,” “Hamlet”) appear to have deepened her work on both sides of the musical divide.
From singing, Marcovicci has learned how to act; and from acting, she has come to understand the power of song.
“They’re passionately connected,” says Marcovicci. “The thing I found in singing is that emotions happen instantly. But I didn’t trust those [emotions] as an actress — I used to say, ‘I have to prepare!’
“As the years progressed, I realized — through music — that I had a much more instant connection to my emotions than I thought I did. …
“Now, as an actress, my emotions are so much closer to the surface than they used to be.”
That much is apparent in “Irene in Time,” in which Marcovicci serves as the dramatic linchpin in the story of a young woman (played by Tanna Frederick) trying to unravel the source of her romantic travails. Practically the entire weight of the story rests on Marcovicci’s character, and the way she builds to an emotional catharsis could have sunk the film; instead, her performance elevates it.
It has taken Marcovicci a great deal of professional struggle and personal heartbreak to be able to achieve this degree of emotional authenticity, and surely her work as a cabaret performer has helped her tap it.
Yet Marcovicci did not come to cabaret quickly or easily — she was in her late 30s when she seriously began investigating the art form. Though immersed in music practically since birth, thanks to her mother’s work as a singer, Marcovicci spent much of the 1970s pursuing acting while bouncing from one musical genre to another.
“She was with a folk duo, she was trying to record, she did a disco album — nothing seemed to work,” says Markham.
It wasn’t until Marcovicci lost a TV series built around her, the thoroughly forgotten “Berrenger’s” (1985) — and hit a professional and personal crisis — that she found her way.
“When you have a series, and it’s canceled, it’s a really low blow,” remembers Marcovicci. “I had had that great experience for all those weeks … all the unbelievable heights of the junkets and the first-class this and first-class that, and being in ‘TV Guide.’
“And then I had managed to have a crushing failure in every venue you possibly could have. ‘Nefertiti,’ my Broadway show, closed. … The cancellation of my series. The records that didn’t turn into pop records. ‘The Front’ was never a popular success.
“And then I found such solace in the singing the songs I was meant to sing.”
Specifically, Marcovicci — looking for a new way to express herself — launched a cabaret evening at the Gardenia in Los Angeles. “Marcovicci at Midnight” surprised everyone, including the singer herself, by doing turn-away business in the mid-1980s. “There was no place else to go at midnight out here” in Los Angeles, quips Markham.
New York cabaret impresario Donald Smith promptly brought Marcovicci to the fabled Oak Room at the Algonquin Hotel, and a cabaret star of uncommon musical sensitivity and erudition was born.
For when Marcovicci performs, she’s not merely glancing across favorite songs. From the beginning — and increasingly over the years — she has structured her performances around specific themes and story lines. Evenings devoted to the songs of World War II, music from the movies, even extended song cycles (such as “December Songs,” by Maury Yeston and “I Am Anne Frank,” a concert work by Enid Futterman and Michael Cohen) attest to the breadth of her artistic ambition.
Though she can be a tad precious in these evenings, the poignancy of her interpretations is beyond question. In part, her dramatic insight into her material has been won not just on the stage but off it, for “I have loved and lost,” she says.
Her marriage to Daniel Reichert, she explains, was strained by the rigors of the road, with Reichert raising their daughter while Marcovicci worked to support their family.
“My husband was the brave soul who did Mr. Mom, and he had to pay a very hefty price: Our marriage suffered and paid the heftiest price of all — we live in two [separate] homes,” jointly raising their teenage daughter.
“I ended up having it all, but at a great cost, as far as I’m concerned, because I had a great deal of guilt that came with it.”
Those very emotions well up in “Irene in Time,” which deals with the way parents transform their children, for better and worse. It would be difficult to imagine a role more carefully tailored to Marcovicci’s art and life.
Though at this point, no one is going to call Marcovicci a major movie star, her position in the tiny world of cabaret is assured. And a film such as “Irene in Time,” she says, can only serve to lure more audiences to her cabaret appearances.
If cabaret doesn’t stand exactly at the center of American musical culture, its importance to Marcovicci — and her fans — should not be underestimated.
“Cabaret will always be precious, it will always be fragile,” she says. “It’s like a violin — it’s a precious instrument.
“It’s not an electric guitar, so it may not be the most popular instrument. But it’s pure, it’s rare, it’s gorgeous, it’s historic and it’s divine, when used right.”
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Andrea Marcovicci
When: 8 p.m. Friday and Saturday; 7 p.m. July 19; 8 p.m. July 20
Where: Davenport’s, 1383 N. Milwaukee Ave.
Tickets: $35-$40; 773-278-1830
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hreich@tribune.com
