(2 of 2)
For rock purists, Beehive (which takes its name from the puffed-up hairdos of the early '60s) may be too prefab and refried. The songs are speeded up, the styles are hyped up, and the performances are often camped up. Critics will also note the absence of glamour gold from Phil Spector's girl groups; where is Uptown, He's a Rebel, Be My Baby, Not Too Young to Get Married or the ineffable Da Doo Ron Ron? But Gallagher was not looking to create a Madame Tussaud's of femme pop; he wanted to take an affectionate look at "a girl growing up, coming of age in that period. For me, and apparently for many people in the audience, it's The Way We Were of the '60s." As the decade and the show progress, girl groups give way to woman singers, coy jingles to wham- bam sexuality. Says Pattie Darcy, 30, a blond soul stirrer whose repertoire embraces Gore and Franklin: "It shows women letting their hair down, washing the Aqua Net out, giving up their skintight skirts and high heels."
On those heels, the '80s women onstage do strut and stomp. Jasmine Guy, a Diana Ross with funk, does proud by the Tina Turner anthem River Deep -- Mountain High. Laura Theodore works her heft, raunch and four-octave range on a rendition of Ball and Chain that could raise the dead, including Janis Joplin. And to hear Gina Taylor attack Aretha's Do Right Woman -- Do Right Man (four minutes of riffs that ascend into the ionosphere of emotional pride and pain) is to feel a standing ovation from the hairs on the back of your neck. "We're not trying to impersonate the singers," says Theodore, 28. "We want to capture their edge and essence." Sure, but eight times a week? Gotta be draining. "Aerobically, it's like running three miles," says Darcy. "I break into a sweat halfway through the first act and don't stop till it's over. Still, the show is very good for me. It helps expel my demons. Otherwise they would've locked me up a long time ago."
Future editions of Beehive will be shaped, as this one is, in part by the special strengths of their performers. The audience will remain a major participant, singing along and hamming it up. "Most people know what to expect when they come in, but a few seem taken aback," says Taylor, 32. "It's like going into a museum and being given an easel." Right: the perfect museum for the '80s. The artworks come alive and parade their stuff, just like old times.