Still, when Broadway opened its doors again in the fall of 2021, it was difficult for me to return. Even fully vaccinated, venturing out into the world again, especially crowded venues made me apprehensive. However, Broadway’s COVID-19 protocols were some of the strictest and this eventually gave me the confidence to go back. In the last three months of the year, I have been fortunate to see some amazing shows. Here’s the full rundown:
Come From Away
Having garnered fantastic reviews when it opened in 2017 and only being 90-minutes long, Come From Away felt like the perfect way to ease myself back to the theatre. To the credit of the production, I felt immensely safe- vax cards were checked, mask compliance was excellent, and the auditorium was emptier than my office.
Unfortunately, I misjudged my choice for a comeback. Don’t get me wrong, the show was fantastic. It tells the story of several planes rerouted to Gander, Newfoundland, after 9/11 and how the local community rallied together to welcome the travelers. It is a feelgood story that reminds us of the best parts of humanity- a time when divisions can be put aside, compassion can reign, and we can support one another (what wishful thinking these days). Nonetheless, it does not shy away from tougher subjects such as discrimination faced by Muslims after the attacks and survivor’s guilt.
The storytelling is brilliant and driven by a strong and beautiful score. The cast is wonderful with Rachel Tucker and Q. Smith as particular standouts. Tucker, who plays one of the pilots, is a powerhouse. She nails the changes in emotions of her solo song that tells her story of an ambitious pilot whose world is shaken by the attacks. Smith monopolizes the audience’s empathy with her heartbreaking portrayal of a mother searching for her son, a NYC firefighter who responded to the attacks.
With so much praise for this show, what was the issue? Honestly, it was too overwhelming for me. Even with 20 years of distance, 9/11 still feels too close. The show packed in every emotional trigger for me and I was on the verge of tears for 90 long minutes. This was coupled with my own sentimentality of seeing my first Broadway show in over a year. Perhaps, non-New Yorkers and younger folks may smile through the uplifting moments, but it was a struggle for me.
Ain't Too Proud
Desperate to be entertained, I immediately walked across the street to the Imperial Theatre after the waterworks that was Come From Away and bought tickets for Ain’t Too Proud, a jukebox musical about the Temptations. I absolutely love Motown and was excited for some familiar songs sung by Broadway pipes.
This was just the show I needed. Per its full title, we follow the life and times of the Temptations and focus on the group’s career and their members’ personal struggles. Accompanied by a catalogue of their most popular songs (My Girl, Papa Was a Rolling Stone, Cloud Nine, etc.), the show stresses the power of the group and the survival of the music. This is a testament to the group’s endurance in music history. The Temptations continue to thrive to this day, albeit without its beloved original members.
The showmanship of all the performers is commendable. The fantastic five (Nik Walker as Otis Williams, James Harkness as Paul Williams, Jawan M. Jackson as Melvin Franklin, Matt Manuel as David Ruffin, and Jelani Remy as Eddie Kendricks) are some of the most talented men on Broadway. The singing was amazing and the dancing was sharp and impeccable. Candice Marie Woods also gets a shoutout for her portrayal of Diana Ross.
The show covers a lot of ground time wise and thus, utilizes Otis Williams as a narrator. The consequence is that much of the narrative is delivered through monologue, rather than through book scenes or songs. The script is also a little weak at times with a few super cliché lines tossed in here and there (a lot of “everything dies, except the music”). Still, it is easy to overlook these flaws with a show so infectious with positive energy. It is hard not to smile and have a good time at this show.
Girl From the North Country
I did not know exactly what I was getting into when I bought tickets to Girl from the North Country. The show has been polarizing audiences with some falling in love with its Steinbeck-like portrait of a depression-era America and some finding the show a slow slog and less integrated musical and more play, with music.
Girl from the North Country is a jukebox musical that fittingly underscores a story about working-class people with the powerful music of Bob Dylan. There is no straightforward plot. The show merely looks into the lives of a small set of characters residing in a boarding house in Duluth, Minnesota (Dylan’s hometown). The community is hopeless, jobless, and worn down from their current environment and from age. Nonetheless, there is a strong solidarity and community that uplifts their daily lives and distracts from their collective hardships.
Ultimately, this is a high brow show about the low brow. If Frasier was still running, this is show that culture-snob Frasier and Niles Crane would drag their dad to see. While the Crane brothers spend hours picking apart nuanced details, their dad contently sings along to “Forever Young”. The musical is as poetic as Dylan’s beautiful lyrics. His songs, now in lovely folk acoustic arrangements, act as a parallel narrative to the drama on stage. For example, “Hurricane” is sung by the fantastic Austin Scott, who plays an African American boxer who has been wrongfully put in jail for murder much like the song’s actual subject, Rubin “Hurricane” Carter. Dylan’s iconic anthem “Like a Rolling Stone” is sung by the fallen-from-grace, dementia-suffering wife of the boarding housekeeper, played by an incomparable Mare Winningham.
For better or for worse, the show lacks commercial appeal as evident by the half empty theatre. Its bleak subject matter, exacerbated by creative choices like the dim lighting and muted colors for the costumes and sets (these work well for the production, but visually depressing), is unlikely to sell tickets in the midst of a pandemic. While it is not exactly “as close as mortals come to heaven on Earth” to quote Ben Brantley, it is still an unexpectedly honest and solid show.
Caroline, or Change
Roundabout’s highly anticipated revival of Caroline, or Change is a powerful show about race relations, power dynamics, changes, and their consequences. I had tickets for it before the pandemic and knew I needed to catch this production once Broadway reopened.
The show follows a middle age black maid, Caroline, working for a Jewish family in Louisiana in the 1960s. She is a single mother and must navigate the conflicts of her home and the home of the Gellmans, the fractured family she is employed by. When Rose Gellman makes a seemingly well-meaning request for Caroline to keep any loose change her step-son Noah leaves in his pockets, this disrupts the power imbalances and sets off a Rube-Goldberg-machine’s worth of changes.
The show is a theatrical onion with many layers to unfold. The story (book by Tony Kushner) delves honestly into the nuances of race relationships. Through Noah, we see the innocence and imagination of children juxtaposed against the hardened experiences of Caroline. We are presented the overly righteousness Northern white liberal through Rose who contrasts the realities of the black community. We are also reminded of the generational gaps between the optimistic, fiery youth like Emmie, Caroline’s teenage daughter, and their more complacent, weary parents.
The cast is led by some stellar leading ladies- Sharon D. Clarke is outstanding as Caroline. She perfectly captures the dilemmas her character faces and her voice just soars. Caissie Levy also does a great job with Rose Gellman, arguably the most complicated character in the show, and Samantha Williams has a gorgeous voice and is electrifying on stage as Emmie.
With so much depth and weight, Caroline or, Change might have worked better as a play. Jeanine Tesori’s mostly through-composed score, an eclectic mix of styles and genres, is entertaining, yet perhaps detracts from the many themes trying to emerge at the surface. After all, this is a pivotal piece of theatre with so many important and timely themes.
Company
My first experience with Stephen Sondheim’s Company was in college, ironically, Sondheim’s alma mater. I listened to the first act and read the Wikipedia synopsis trying to find a song to write a paper on for my 20th century music class. I was not the biggest Sondheim fan at the time, but I figured he was a better option than Schoenberg. Since then, Sondheim’s music and shows have grown on me immensely and this reimagined revival of Company has been one of the best things I have seen on Broadway.
In this gender-bent production, Bobby, a 35-year-old bachelor, is now Bobbie, a single woman being pressured by her married friends to get married. Several other characters have been revised to accommodate this change and also update the material for modern-day audiences (ex. Amy and Paul are now Jamie and Paul, a gap couple). The show is structured in episodic scenes with Bobbie and different couples.
The cast, led by a charismatic Katrina Lenk, proves that there are no small roles. The ensemble of supporting characters, which includes the iconic Patti LuPone (she is iconic as ever), is so committed and energetic. They make each scene memorable with their command for their characters and comedic timing.
This is the perfect time for a revival of Company. The genderbending works incredibly well. The book accommodates seamlessly apart from the occasional odd lyric. Thematically, marriage has different pressures and implications for women (ie. biological clock, homemaker stereotypes, motherhood, etc.) compared to men.
The show and its themes speak to the millennial audience and not only in its omnipresence of iPhones, selfies, and dating apps. The millennial generation has pushed off important adult milestones to later in life. We move out later, we get married later, we buy our first homes later, etc. In many ways, Bobbie’s resistance to marriage and her annoyance at her friends who attempt to change her mind reflect today’s Bobbies (and Bobbys and non-binary Bobby-equivalents) and our struggles with generational expectations (hello to nagging parents asking for grandchildren!).
Though this revival is admittedly not the same show Sondheim may have imagined, it still captures the heart, humor, and human experience permeating in all Sondheim’s works. It is a loving production and preserves the musical genius of its creator.