Investment pays off for Human Nature

We’ll talk Motown in a bit, but the real story of Human Nature this time is about reinvestment.

The Australian vocal quartet’s new forum at The Venetian brings to light just how few shows get a chance to substantially improve. This jump from the former Imperial Palace is the rare case of a pretty good show transforming into a very good one.

They guys themselves haven’t changed. They’re still hard-charging in their matching tuxes and synchronized moves, begging and pleading for their babies’ affections with impeccable harmonies.

Brothers Andrew and Michael Tierney still provide the high and falsetto voices, Toby Allen grounds the bass and Phil Burton is in charge of the manly, Levi Stubbs-style wailing.

But if money can’t buy them love, it can sure buy a flashier, better-constructed showcase for their talents. And this “Version 1.5” doesn’t happen often.

The big shows, your Cirques and Shania Twains, front-load their production costs, then just tweak and tighten as it pays off in time. Few of the lower-budget titles hit big enough to invest their thin profits in anything but marketing.

Human Nature was among the latter when the one-time Australian boy band arrived in 2009. People loved the Motown standards and the good-looking guys who had blended their voices for 20 years.

The staging was plain, with a simple band riser, but the real issue was a variety show with no variety. “There’s no attempt to put the songs in any context and rare is the attempt to vary the pace,” I wrote the first time I saw them.

But in moving the group to a more upscale address, producer Adam Steck invested in both hardware and content.

The new set by TV designer Andy Walmsley (“American Idol,” “America’s Got Talent”) makes the group look like it too is on TV. The light and video animation can almost overwhelm the cozy theater at times, but the singers and the seven-piece band shimmer in the energy.

And the outside perspective of director Wayne Harrison not only paces the show with specific segments, but helps the quartet explain its curious past.

At one point, the four haul out an old Super 8 projector for a cute bit about their school boy origins, picking up “Earth Angel” to finish the audio of the old home video.

There is more Motown history, too, expanded discussion of the Detroit label and Smokey Robinson, who is still billed as “presenter” and offers a video introduction.

This time, a younger vision of Robinson in vintage black-and-white also pops up on the rear screen to chime in on “Tracks of My Tears.” Another segment combines several early hits (“Please Mr. Postman,” “Shop Around”) into a quick primer on the label.

Some Motown classics have reached dangerous levels of saturation, but it’s amazing how a quick setup — the year, the artist and a comment such as “For us it defines the Motown sound” — can pave the way for a chestnut such as “My Girl.”

Someone may have sneaked over to Celine or Shania, taking notes about how to get the musicians off the band riser and into the action. Music director Ronnie Foster even glides out on a mobile piano to support some ’round-the-campfire moments.

All the enhancements only reinforce the unlikely 23-year longevity of the four singers, who started when the youngest was 12.

The combination just clicked. Together there’s no Motown song they can’t handle, from the girl groups to Edwin Starr’s “25 Miles.” But none of those Motown legends would deny that it’s not just how you sound, but how you wear it.

Human Nature may never shake the novelty of “four white Aussies singing Motown.” But now they are squarely in the tradition of looking as great as they sound.

Contact reporter Mike Weatherford at mweatherford@
reviewjournal.com or 702-383-0288.