Ramones-inspired nonmusical 'Four Chords and a Gun' a missed opportunity

“Four Chords and a Gun” - ★ ★ ½

“Four Chords and a Gun,” the Ramones-inspired play that opened Sunday at Chicago's Broadway Playhouse, is not a musical. That's its problem.

A fictionalized account of the uneasy collaboration between proto-punk rockers the Ramones and über-producer Phil Spector, the play unfolds during the 1979 recording sessions for the Ramones' fifth album and biggest seller, “End of the Century.” During the booze-and-drug-fueled sessions, Spector is rumored to have threatened the band with a gun. The alleged incident, besides inspiring the title, serves as a chilling climax for a play that ultimately fails to live up to the promise of its premise.

“Four Chords and a Gun” would seem to be an ideal showcase of the Ramones' signature, three-minute bursts of stripped-down, noisy rock 'n' roll that paved the way for the likes of Green Day, Nirvana and The Clash.

Except that “Four Chords and a Gun” isn't a musical, evidenced by the near-total absence of Ramones' songs, save for the recorded snippets that accompany set changes. The show is a missed opportunity, with a rousing, post-play mini-concert that hints at the jukebox tuner that might have been.

Wisely, actor/playwright/lifelong Ramones fan John Ross Bowie focuses on a brief period, which he suggests marked a turning point for the band members: leader Johnny (Cyrus Lane, all coiled frustration), frontman Joey (Justin Goodhand), bassist Dee Dee (Paolo Santalucia) and drummer Marky (played with everyman affability by James Smith).

Lane's defiantly independent Johnny is a borderline tyrant who's got a thing for his bandmate's girl. Goodhand's obsessive Joey wants desperately to “make something that lasts.” His girlfriend Linda (the nicely authentic Vanessa Smythe) wants to enjoy the perks of the Ramones' regional acclaim. Meanwhile, Santalucia's exquisitely damaged Dee Dee and Smith's drowsy Marky battle drug and alcohol addiction.

Fueled by poverty, impatience and rock star ambition, the combination is combustible, especially with the suspiciously unhinged Spector (a nicely idiosyncratic Pederson) lighting the fuse with the promise of a hit album.

The tension comes from the rancorous relationship between the fringe favorites eager to go global and the storied producer chasing his next, long overdue hit. The conflict has to do with how each perceives music and its creation.

For Johnny, Spector's most vocal opponent, greatness comes in a flash. Fast, furious, passionate and messy, the best music is of the moment. For Spector, great music comes from meticulous production. It's rehearsed, refined and reworked until it's perfect.

Theirs is a debate worth having. However, Bowie never takes us into the studio or rehearsal room to hear those arguments play out. We never experience the creative process for ourselves. Instead we get a paint-by-numbers biodrama with cursory back story exposition. (For the record, neither Spector nor the Ramones endorsed the play.)

Still affection and energy underscore director Richard Ouzounian's production, which concludes with a powerhouse set of Ramones' covers from singer Adam Hendrickson, bassist Bob Potsic, guitarist Alex Kleiner and drummer Dandre Miskel.

As for the acting, it's first-rate, especially Santalucia and Goodhand, who earn kudos for their sensitive, multilayered performances.

All that's missing is the music.

<b>Location:</b> Broadway Playhouse at Water Tower Place, 175 E. Chestnut St., Chicago, (800) 775-2000 or broadwayinchicago.com

<b>Showtimes:</b> 7:30 p.m. Tuesday through Friday; 2 and 8 p.m. Saturday; 2 and 7:30 p.m. Sunday; through June 2

<b>Running time:</b> About 110 minutes, including the post-play mini-concert of Ramones' favorites; no intermission

<b>Tickets:</b> $36.45 to $96.45

<b>Parking:</b> $14 in the adjacent Water Tower Place parking garage with theater validation

<b>Rating:</b> For adults; includes strong language, sexual situations and violence