This week, I took a day trip to New York to catch a couple shows: Passing Strange and Next to Normal. Look for my review of the latter later in the week.
As for Passing Strange, I got the sense that this was going to be a different kind of Broadway musical when I handed my ticket to the usher at the door, and she charmingly drawled "Aisle three, baby." Then the walk-in music was a sort of Dixieland blues. The audience was a mix of African Americans and downtown hipsters. There were very few obvious theater queens in evidence, present company excepted.
The show itself is a compelling amalgam of performance and stagecraft, part verse fable, part rock concert with a through line, developed by Stew and Heidi Rodewall during performances with their band, The Negro Problem. As I sat watching this fascinating show, I couldn't help thinking of it as a sort of black Spring Awakening. Passing Strange actually bears more than passing resemblance to last season's Tony-winning best musical: the raw energy, the imaginative staging, the innovative story-telling, the disregard for theatrical conventions. All in all, this show has more soul and bass line per square inch than any other show in New York.
Stew and Rodewall have deconstructed the musical form as only outsiders can, not unlike what the creators of Urinetown did when they essentially satirized musical theater in that show. When you don't know the rules, you're not going to feel compelled to follow them. At one point during Passing Strange, narrator Stew says something to the effect of "At this point in the show, there should be a musical comedy song about moving on. But we don't know how to write that kind of song, so we're going to make fun of French avante garde cinema instead." It's that kind of sly subversion that makes Passing Strange such a treat.
Stew is a dynamic and electrifying performer, and I welcome the opportunity to expand my musical horizons, albeit within the familiar context of the Belasco Theater. I truly believe in the title of my blog: musical theater has afforded me the opportunity to experience so many different facets of performance and genres of music. Now I can add downtown, bluesy rock to that list. The score reminds me of the one to Hedwig and the Angry Inch, not because they are similar, but because both wind up working quite well in a theatrical setting, yet remaining true to their musical roots.
The show employs some innovative dramatic devices, including one moment when Stew breaks the fourth wall and talks to the audience about a time when he invited a friend to see the show when it was under development. The friend is a street vendor who operates a pretzel cart. After seeing the show, the friend makes a revelatory observation regarding the younger Stew's search for "the real." "'Real' is a construct, it's artificial," he says. "Your character in the show is looking for something that doesn't exist in life, only in art." Stew responds, "Damn, pretzel man. You're a deep motherfucker." That realization in turn leads to the show's apotheosis. Someone schooled in the tenets of musical theater might never make such a bold narrative choice.
Although immensely enjoyable, Passing Strange
is not without its flaws. The text alternates between pretense and poetry, but there's just enough of the
latter to mitigate the former. The show is a morass of compelling
contradictions: raw emotion combined with facile realizations, bold
observations followed by derivative insights. I eventually came to
embrace the contradiction and enjoy the craft, the message, the
passion, and the humor.
Stew's lyrics are earnest but erudite, peppered with numerous quotable aphorisms, but also the occasional groaner like "narrative is a capitalist plot" or "I'm Superfly in the buttermilk." At one point, one of the characters comes downstage in an obvious reference to the emcee from Cabaret and says "Meine damen und herrings..." Oy. Sometimes Stew's attempts at being clever border on the inscrutable, as when he refers to a certain group of people as "a collection of verbs disguised as nouns." Another lyric describes something as "swallowed if harmful." Huh?
There were times in listening to Stew's rapid-fire cultural references that I was reminded of Mel Brooks, who seems to think that because you mention Tolstoy or Ibsen in a song lyric, suddenly your show is classy. But to Stew's credit, although he drops the name James Baldwin at least three times during the show, there's a real sense of Baldwin's influence on the show, particularly the sense of the main character being in Another Country, and the hints at gay experimentation.
The show is at its best when reveling in complexity and ambiguity, and at its worst when making bland proclamations about the healing power of love. Much of the show concerns Stew's younger self traveling the world in search of "the real," refusing to settle for pat answers and easy resolutions. Then comes Stew's eleven-o'clock number, sort of his "Rose Turn," about the power of love to transcend "the real," although for me it came off as banal moralizing. But through it all, Stew maintains a sense of humor, perspective, and humility about his own selfish and pretentious past.
Passing Strange boasts a talented cast of seven actors and four musicians (although the lines between the two are often blurred). Of particular note in the ensemble are Coleman Domingo, Rebecca Naomi Jones, and the adorable Chad Goodridge, all making their Broadway debuts. And I would be remiss if I failed to mention the remarkable Daniel Breaker as Stew's younger self (bearing the pretentious title "Youth" in the Playbill). Just a stunning ensemble of actors, making me wish there were a Tony category for "best ensemble." Director Annie Dorsen and choreographer Karole Armitage
work together with lighting designer -- yes, lighting designer --
Kevin Adams to create a show in which every element is effectively and affectingly
choreographed.
The show is currently playing to about 33% capacity, but this is a musical that deserves to be seen. It almost demands it.
Wow, it sounds great. And I loved "Spring Awakening." But at 33 percent, I wonder how long it'll be around. Unlike SA, I'm not sure it'll be able to attract hordes of adoring teenage (and older) boys and girls who will come see it again and again. And it's not exactly the usual tourist fare. What do you think its prospects are?
Posted by: Esther | February 22, 2008 at 10:55 PM
Chris, You're right. This show deserves an audience. But I think it is likely to find it once it opens and everyone is scrambling to get tickets after reading the well-deserved rave reviews.
Posted by: Steve On Broadway (SOB) | February 23, 2008 at 12:02 AM
Esther, I think Steve may have a good point. Spring Awakening also struggled to find an audience until it won the Tony. And think of all the African Americans that kept Color Purple running for more than two years. Once the word gets around, PS has every chance of being another "little show that could." Its running costs are modest enough that it wouldn't need to run very long to turn a profit.
Posted by: chris caggiano | February 23, 2008 at 08:54 AM
Chris, I've re-read your review, and aside from agreeing with most of your positive points on the show, I also agree wholeheartedly that the Tonys really, really need to give thoughtful consideration to instituting a "Best Ensemble" award.
Posted by: Steve On Broadway (SOB) | March 01, 2008 at 12:12 AM
I was just re-reading your review before I post mine, and I want to second the adorable Chad Goodridge.
Posted by: Esther | April 08, 2008 at 12:30 AM