Mariah still reveals without revealing
You might have expected a theme to Mariah Carey's new tour. She's playing medium-size concert halls instead of arenas, and her shows are billed as "an intimate evening" - a hint that we're in for something honest, revealing and new. Now would be a good time for that, because Carey's diva act is losing its luster. Following her nervous breakdown, a brief hospitalization, and getting the boot from her former record label, Carey's selling power has diminished. Her vanity film, "Glitter", was thrashed by critics and ignored by audiences; her latest album, "Charmbracelet", has been a lukewarm seller. Skeptics would say this small-scale tour was born out of necessity, not inspiration. Maybe a reinvention is in order?
Alas, Mariah was up to her same old tricks Thursday night. Wearing a shimmering silver outfit, she made her entrance strutting down one aisle while trailed by a cameraman and an entourage. Next, she posed onstage while a troupe of fake paparazzi popped flashbulbs at her. And although the first song, "Heartbreaker", didn't call for it, Carey immediately began squeaking out her famous, frilly high notes. She did so on nearly every song, lacing them together like musical doilies and passing them out whether they were needed or not.
For nearly two hours, the concert unfolded like a long parade of lame ideas taken from the worst of mainstream culture. The set borrowed blatantly from the movie "Moulin Rouge", resembling a Parisian artist's garret, complete with awful "paintings" of Carey on an easel. She changed costumes constantly, from a red cocktail dress to a black Harley-Davidson shirt. A nine-member dance troupe wore oddly outdated getups: leg warmers, striped shirts, overalls with the bibs down.
Meantime, Carey traded on her standard combination of goo-goo girliness and streetwalker sex appeal. It's a knee-weakener, to be sure, but it seems impossible that this is Carey's true personality. Isn't there anything beyond the diamond-encrusted butterfly ring, the eye-popping cleavage, the eerily frozen smile (held perfectly at the end of a song, as if part of a photo spread)? If so, Carey wasn't showing it. "So, I wanna sing this song that's about persevering and holding on and all that stuff," she said, as if even she were growing tired of her own store-bought sentiments. (The song was "Through the Rain", and its lyrics are as simple as a children's book: "And when the wind blows/ And shadows grow close/ Don't be afraid".)
Still, Carey stretched herself once or twice, and it paid off. "Subtle Invitation", a jazzy number with smart horns, built to a soulful climax with Carey's voice coming in sudden cries and bursts. Her version of Def Leppard's "Bringin' On the Heartbreak" worked surprisingly well, and her five-octave range finally served a purpose on the thunderous refrain. There were only a few empty seats in the house, but those seats spoke almost as loudly as Carey's voice. She needs a change - and not just another costume. (Newsday)
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