This is a strange one. It's not a nightclub act, although it's produced in a cabaret (the SoHo Playhouse's Huron Club space) and features backup musicians. It's not a play, although it previously appeared on a stage at Lincoln Center in 1989. It is a mock epic poem by Shel Silverstein that appeared in Playboy magazine in 1979, delivered with considerable passion and energy by Brit Herring. In a nonstop 55 minutes, he narrates both title roles — plus a few cameos, including God — all of them in a Southern accent.
The Devil and Billy Markham is the Faust tale taken to Nashville. Sort of. The devil finds Billy, a failed songwriter and compulsive gambler, in a wannabes' bar in Music City. Satan easily wins Markham's soul with a challenge to hit an impossible 13 with unmarked dice. The rest of the poem, which badly doesn't rhyme most of the time, deals with Billy's descent into hell and his attempt to return to his former state of grace. Silverstein's authorship implies that there will be witty lines, like the lyrics of his country hits for Loretta Lynn ("One's on the Way") and Johnny Cash ("A Boy Named Sue") or the gentler charms of his children's stories. But you can forget all about that. Silverstein's hell is vulgar without being funny.
Two talented musicians, Sean Singer on guitar and Trey Albright on percussion, are wasted doing mere riffs rather than real numbers. Herring as Billy only sings half hooks that illuminate nothing and go nowhere. Director Thomas Coté probably didn't have much of a chance to make more of what was on the page, delivering a setless staging that features a manic Herring in cowboy garb working the center of the floor, flanked by the two musicians, collectively called the Broken Pockets Band. Someday I'd love to hear them play a complete song.
Presented by Algonquin Productions at the SoHo Playhouse, 15 Vandam St., NYC. Nov. 3-Dec. 16. Fri. and Sat., 7 p.m. (no performances Nov. 24 and 25). (212) 691-1555 or www.sohoplayhouse.com.