Ben Jones

Temptation

54 Below, NYC, May 20, 2025

Reviewed by Jacqueline Parker

In what might have been the most seductive opening of a cabaret show I’ve ever witnessed, Ben Jones began by surveying his audience and asking, “What do you want?” He set a rather adult tone when he injected a bit of “Pure Imagination” (Leslie Bricusse/Anthony Newley) into the proceedings, graduating that song that usually appeals to children to adulthood. He repeated those opening four words throughout the show and changed their emphasis to suit the message he was trying to deliver. He also used “Hold your breath,” “Count to three,” and “Is it something wonderful?” to mesmerize the audience. He used spoken words to lead the listener down the path he chose as effectively as he used the words he sang. Music director/pianist Ron Abel on piano adroitly led the band, which included Sean Harkness on guitar, Yuka Tadano on bass, and Ray Marchica on drums, and occasionally shared amusing banter with Jones.

Jones has the looks and the style of a crooner from the past century, but with a contemporary sensibility; he’s a bit like a Titan with a foot in each era. He took each song and infused it with his own magical style, and twisted the melody to his own will and coaxing more meaning out of a lyric than imaginable. Even the lighting was at times quite dramatic, and it worked with him to set a mood and tone that was captivating to say the least.

Jones explored the concept of temptation in other ways, such as by showing that the song “I Put a Spell on You” (Jay Hawkins/Herb Slotkin) could be about the addiction to cell phones that’s now so prevalent. It was clear that the concept of temptation is one that Jones has explored in depth: “There are no books on temptation—it just happens to you.” That comment led to a story from his teenage years about being tempted by his music teacher that had a humorous and amusing ending. Jones was very open with stories about his family and his youth that skillfully broke some of the emotional tension he otherwise induced.

Joes performed Sondheim’s “Being Alive,” not a song to be delivered casually, with such passion that it felt as though we were peering into his soul. His skill at vocal gymnastics was astounding but not ostentatious; it was there to be appreciated. Including the Rodgers and Hart classic from Pal Joey, “Bewitched (Bothered and Bewildered)” was almost an inevitable in a show about temptation, and Jones crystallized every line to create a truly memorable rendition of a song that’s much older than he is.

The show ended on a note of inspiration and resolve with “The Impossible Dream,” Mitch Lee and Joe Darion’s anthem from Man of La Mancha. It was a clever way to shift the mood, and Jones delivered it with the same sense of higher purpose that has made it so popular for more than a half century. Further lightening the mood, Jones led the audience in a singalong of “You’ll Be Back” from Lin-Manuel Miranda’s Hamilton.

This was a well-conceived and tersely written show that was indeed haunting in its ability to linger in the mind and encourage self-revelatory questions. From the ecstatic applause (especially from the distaff side) of the audience, it was clear that Jones was a masterful showman and a skilled interpreter of both classic and contemporary songs.