My review was written in March 1984 after watching the show on Vestron video cassette.
"Neil Diamond: Love at the Greek" is a so-so taped performance of the popular singer, dating from 1977 at L. A.' Greek Theater and previously telecast in a longer version ahead of its current home video resurrection. Hardly a momentous concert, program is aimed strictly at diehard Diamond fans.
Running through a set of his familiar hits, Diamond excels at emotional renderings of ballads, with "I Am...I Cried" a concert highlight. His numerous uptempo songs are neutralized by a stereo sound recording that distorts the echo-chamber vocals and emphasizes extraneous audience clapalongs.
The singer's effective stage presence and contact with his adoring, clean-cut following are preserved here for posterity, but the music is not up to snuff. Except for a brief conga solo at the outset featuring King Errison, Diamond's seven-piece band plus backup singer are not given the spotlight. In an overdone singalong on "Song Sung Blue", he calls up Helen Reddy and Henry Winkler from the audience to join in, to null effect.
"Neil Diamond: Love at the Greek" is a so-so taped performance of the popular singer, dating from 1977 at L. A.' Greek Theater and previously telecast in a longer version ahead of its current home video resurrection. Hardly a momentous concert, program is aimed strictly at diehard Diamond fans.
Running through a set of his familiar hits, Diamond excels at emotional renderings of ballads, with "I Am...I Cried" a concert highlight. His numerous uptempo songs are neutralized by a stereo sound recording that distorts the echo-chamber vocals and emphasizes extraneous audience clapalongs.
The singer's effective stage presence and contact with his adoring, clean-cut following are preserved here for posterity, but the music is not up to snuff. Except for a brief conga solo at the outset featuring King Errison, Diamond's seven-piece band plus backup singer are not given the spotlight. In an overdone singalong on "Song Sung Blue", he calls up Helen Reddy and Henry Winkler from the audience to join in, to null effect.
