Life is a Cabaret DeMuro launches one-woman show with a little help from her friends and alter egos

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Over the years, Roberta DeMuro has collected characters the way other people collect stamps or German beer steins.

The veteran singer and actress usually did these impressions, both of celebrities and personalities from Maine, for friends in the privacy of her own home. During the past quarter-century, she has sang, sometimes with a band and other times accompanying herself on piano, and acted in community theater, playing in Maine, across the country and even in Europe.

Then she decided to put her hobby and career together, in hopes of attracting more gigs.

“I should have done it 20 years ago,” said DeMuro. “It seems like a good idea. It’s self-contained, you can take it anywhere – casinos, cruise ships, conventions.”

There still was the matter of turning concept into reality. DeMuro told Pennye Wheeler, who ended up being the show’s producer, of her plan, and Wheeler suggested bringing in New York City director Carl Schmehl to help out.

Schmehl is no stranger to Bangor. He has directed two

Eastern Maine Medical Center Follies and the debut of his own play, “Rockwell,” at the Maine Center for the Arts, with all three shows benefiting EMMC.

Schmehl sees DeMuro doing a one-woman show as a natural.

“She’s a very, very funny person,” he said. “I’ve always felt she should be doing these characters, because her stories are so great. She’s the kind of person who makes your sides hurt while visiting with her.”

The three came up with a structure. A woman played by DeMuro wanders into a piano bar. When the piano player doesn’t appear, she sits down and starts performing as different characters.

The trio had one major obstacle. Schmehl had a week available, so they had that long to pull the show together before an invitation-only premiere in front of friends and family at Pilots Grill in Bangor.

They also had some debate over content. Schmehl pushed for more of her local characters, while DeMuro wanted to stick with celebrities, so as not to inadvertently offend any of the people that her characters were modeled after who would be in the audience at the debut.

The opening night was filmed so DeMuro could send the tape to agents who could help her to book shows.

“It’s like watching a TV taping,” Schmehl said. “It’s nice to have a crowd there for reaction and noise. We can find out what aspects work, and which don’t.”

DeMuro and Schmehl went through a hectic week of rehearsals. Opening night arrived, and so did a couple inches of snow. What didn’t show up was the hoped-for sound system.

Yet, inside the function room at Pilots Grill, that didn’t matter. A crowd of 130 was expected, yet 176 of DeMuro’s friends and supporters showed up. After a delicious buffet and ample beverages, the audience was primed to laugh and applaud when DeMuro took the stage two hours after the evening began. And she delivered with enthusiasm over the next 75 minutes.

DeMuro came out, dressed in a white jacket and black pants, and sat at the piano, offering up a sarcastic version of “Feelings” and a spirited cover of “Ain’t Got Nothing But the Blues.”

As she raced offstage to get in costume for her first character, Schmehl came up to stress that the show was a work in progress, and added, “We put together 10 different shows, and we haven’t decided which one we’ll do. So we’ll do excerpts from all of them.”

With a curly blond wig covering her own short blond hair, DeMuro returned in a purple off-the-shoulder dress, feather boa and feather-lined hat. Mae West had arrived with an attitude as she ripped into “Wonder Where My Easy Rider’s Gone?”

It soon became audience-participation time, as people read set-up lines for “Miss West.” “Goodness, Miss West. What lovely diamonds!” one man read. “Goodness had nothing to do with it,” she replied.

DeMuro rotated the wig and dropped the feathers and became Ethel Merman, belting “There’s No Business Like Show Business.” She then sang her half of a duet with Mary Martin on “Over the Rainbow,” explaining, “Mary couldn’t be here tonight because she’s dead.”

Eventually, plans call for DeMuro to carry off all costume changes on stage. So she tried switching outfits on stage to the accompaniment of wolf whistles, and cracked, “I may be in the wrong business.”

Much of DeMuro’s act was exaggeration. You couldn’t be any more of a southern-fried hick than her Tammy Wynette. Her Marlene Dietrich was a study in Teutonic indifference.

While wearing a long black wig, she portrayed both Sonny and Cher in “I Got You Babe.” She turned around during Sonny’s vocals to unveil a sign which read, “Sonny Bono costume not available.” But her version of his reedy tenor was.

The short week of rehearsal showed up during her Tina Turner impression. In a scary, spiky wig and a flowered fringed dress, she looked the part, but she often forgot lyrics during “Private Dancer” and “Proud Mary.”

But she came back strong as Dolly Parton (repeatedly adjusting her assets) singing “Nine to Five” and in a dead-on impression of Bette Midler on “Wind Beneath My Wings.”

Afterward, DeMuro reflected, “I got a sense of how the timing worked, and I’ll probably drop a couple of pieces and put in more of myself.”

She also hopes to give her act more of a Maine flavor.

“Maine people are pretty funny,” she said. “Also there’s a fascination about Maine out there. If someone hasn’t been here already, then they always wanted to come here.”

DeMuro expects her show to constantly evolve.

“It’s an ongoing process,” she said. “I want to keep it fresh, and be excited about it myself. I’ll always be working on it and making changes.”

DeMuro is headed back to her winter base in Florida, and hopes to begin getting jobs with her new show within a month. But she’ll never forget the evening that kicked it all off for her.

“It seemed like nothing went right,” DeMuro said. “But with the feeling in that room, I felt like I couldn’t do anything wrong. They were very forgiving and wonderful. I was very happy with the night.”