Stay in tune, boys!
It’s America’s disreputable side of society, stylized and set to music. Guys And Dolls (1955) follows the machinations of two men, Nathan Detroit and Sky Masterson, as they pursue their vocations and their distractions – their ladies – in New York, New York. All around them, the city’s inhabitants gyrate to the tunes and the tension as Nathan bets high rolling Sky that he cannot take a doll of Nathan’s choosing to Havana for a night of dinner and … whatever takes their fancy. $1000 is the bet, and Nathan plans to use these ill-gotten funds to run a crap-game, his vocation and income, because those who fancy themselves well are in town, ready to chuck the bones in search of unearned wealth.
Who’s Nathan’s choice? To Masterson’s dismay, it’s Sgt Sarah Brown of the Salvation Army, a woman upright and devoted to the straight and narrow, but despairing of taking the first step up the Army ladder, of dragging a soul out of the filth of the gutter and into Heaven with her. But Masterson is not the sort to collapse at the first hurdle, and soon he finds the hook that will persuade her to his cause: 12 sinners’ souls will make their appearance at the Mission Hall two nights hence, in return for her company. Reluctant, but at the end of the creek, she agrees.
Meanwhile, Nathan has his own set of troubles, as his woman of 14 years is demanding he put up in the chapel, or shut up, and does so in that most elegant of New York accents – loud and grating. His protestations of love, so elegantly voiced, still her demands – for a time. But when he proves to be a more willing singer than groom, she vows this is the last time, much to his dismay. But he must make the dough, doncha know, and with a crap game or his end imminent, and the Mission Hall fortuitously empty, the dice are in play. Sadly, at least for them, the return of the rightful occupants precipitates the scattering of the gamers like chickens before the fox, but they’re gone fast enough that the notorious Lieutenant of the police department must depart with merely a rage in hand.
But Sarah accuses Masterson of duplicity, both specific and general, and Sky finds there’s a limit to his detachment towards her. Recalling his marker to Sarah, he finds a native guide to the floating crap game, now, appropriately, in the sewers, and on a single roll, persuades a dozen or more of the gamblers to visit the Mission Hall at the appointed hour. A room full of confessionaries, reluctant though they may be, mark success … both immediate and in the future.
Full of famous names such as Harry the Horse and Nicely-Nicely, costumed as if no one in New York is poor, and danced with abandon, this is a luxuriant, leisurely stroll as we consider the question of how to salvage the souls of those who chase lady luck for far too long and way too much audacity, and if the answers are less than convincing, who cares? This is about style and daring, not argument and counter-argument. For today they wed, and if tomorrow brings disagreement, what of it? Live for wedded bliss today, living life to the fullest.
