Hamilton Takes His Shot, and It's a Bullseye

Review: Hamilton

Phillipa Soo and Lin-Manuel Miranda as Eliza and Alexander Hamilton.

 

There are many reasons why Hamilton is an historic, groundbreaking, and important show, the kind of genre-defining work of genius destined to be mentioned along with the likes of A Chorus Line and Rent as a musical that changed the definition of what was possible on the Broadway stage. But all of those reasons stem from the show's chief strength, which is the fact that it is quite simply an incredible achievement in musical storytelling. Lin-Manuel Miranda's hip-hop magnum opus manages to convey both the epic sweep of our country's history and the personal drama occurring in the lives of those who shaped it, distilling the ideals of the American Revolution down to their essence and presenting them in a package that is wildly unexpected and yet completely intuitive. Hamilton functions on so many levels simultaneously that it's somewhat mind-blowing, and yet the show is also one of the most accessible productions currently playing Broadway.

On its most basic level, Hamilton is the life story of Alexander Hamilton, the "Ten Dollar Founding Father" who came to America as an immigrant, helped usher it through the turmoil of the Revolution, and ultimately created the basis of the financial system that has allowed it to become one of the most prosperous nations in the world. But what makes the show so exciting, so viscerally engaging and interesting, is that it is about so much more than one man's life. It is about the very ideals our country was founded on, the same political and philosophical quandaries that trouble today's world leaders as much as they did the rowdy bunch of colonists who rebelled against England's rule in 1776. Hamilton doesn't just speak to how our country was then, but how it is now, a parallel made all the more apparent thanks to the wholly contemporary prism through which this story is presented.

Miranda's score is a work of unadulterated genius, fusing many disparate influences into a crystalized, coherent whole that is immediately engaging, emotionally appealing, and constantly surprising. Expertly crafted rap battles form the basis of political debate, a close knit group of sisters adopt the vocal stylings of a Destiny's Child-esque girl group, and jealous political rivals express their vaulting ambition in the form of hard hitting club thumpers. This throughcomposed work is filled with sly lyrical references to everything from contemporary politics to Rodgers and Hammerstein, all packaged into intricately rhymed passages so dense with meaning that repeated listening only reveals more and more layers of nuance. Yes, the show can be classified as a rap musical, but there are also soaring R&B ballads, tightly harmonized choral numbers, and enough subconscious-permeating melodic hooks that even the staunchest detractors of contemporary music will probably leave humming a bar or two.

Not only is Miranda's score exceptional - quite possibly the best theatrical writing of the new millennium - but his airtight plotting packs an astounding amount of detail into the show's never boring two hour and forty-five minute runtime. Miranda never sacrifices historical accuracy for narrative clarity, and the intercutting between Hamilton's personal life and the larger historical canvas is so deftly handled you'll never once question what's going on. The show was already remarkable during its Off-Broadway run earlier this year, but Miranda has used the time between the show's world premiere and Broadway bow to tighten the storytelling even further. Every minute of the production is not only necessary but also supremely interesting, with nary a wasted subplot or musical motif to be found.

While Miranda's writing pulses with a vivacious life all its own, the production's staging kicks things into overdrive. Director Thomas Kail and choreographer Andy Blankenbuehler work together so seamlessly their contributions look like the work of a single (supremely gifted) individual; Hamilton hits the ground running and only picking up steam from there. Dancers appear and disappear throughout David Korins' deconstructed wood and mortar set, and both Kail and Blankenbuehler make excellent use of the double turntable Korins has provided them. The actors rarely stop moving, and yet this never veers into manic or distracting territory thanks to the sheer inventiveness and unerringly dramatic composition of the evening's stage pictures. Coupled with Paul Tazewell's top notch riffs on eighteenth century clothing and Howell Binkley's *incredible* lighting design, the show is a sumptuous visual feast of intricate staging to rival anything Broadway has ever seen. (Tip: while the orchestra view is no doubt incredible, the full genius of Kail and Blankenbuehler's intricate formations and Tazewell's outstanding lights can only be fully appreciated from the mezzanine.)

And then there's the cast. This is the kind of supremely talented ensemble whose work is destined to become the stuff of theatrical legend, lead by Miranda's fearless performance in the title role. The composer-lyricist-actor acquitted himself very nicely Off-Broadway, but here he has taken things to the next level with his multi-faceted portrayal of the "young, scrappy, and hungry" Founding Father. Miranda perfectly captures the combination of charisma and outspokenness that made Hamilton such an influential figure in early US politics, and also demonstrates just enough personal arrogance that you understand why the author of the Federalist Papers provoked so much scorn among his political rivals.

Counterbalancing Miranda's fire is Leslie Odom, Jr.'s slow burn portrayal of Aaron Burr, the lawyer and politician who famously shot Hamilton in a duel. Odom, Jr. slinks in and out of the narrative during the show's first half, calmly collected while Hamilton's revolutionary fire makes the latter a natural center of attention. But behind Odom, Jr.'s smile is a growing hunger that glistens in his eyes as Burr watches Hamilton go on to greater and greater things, an ambition that boils over during the actor's full-throttle, showstopping performance of "The Room Where It Happens." Other actors portraying famous historical figures include Christopher Jackson as an imposingly dignified George Washington, Jonathan Groff hamming it up as the embittered and foppish King George III, and Daveed Diggs in a star-making dual turn as the showboating Marquis de Lafayette and legendary author of the constitution Thomas Jefferson.

While history is undoubtedly a boys' club, Hamilton still finds plenty of time to explore the women who exerted a huge amount of influence over the title character, specifically his wife Eliza and her sister Angelica Schuyler. Eliza is perfectly embodied by Phillipa Soo, who plays her with a convincing combination of girlish excitement and quiet strength. Soo's big moments come in the musical's latter half, when Hamilton and his family fall subject to the nation's first sex scandal and a heartwrenching personal tragedy; this is where the actress' carefully laid character work from her earlier scenes really helps to sell Eliza's anguish and inner resolve. And Renee Elise Goldsberry is a revelation as Angelica, with her performance of "Satisfied" ranking among the most blissful minutes of musical theatre perfection in the past ten years.

Much has been written about Hamilton in the past six months, to the point where it seems impossible the show could live up to the hype surrounding it. And yet even with the weight of overwhelming expectations upon it, Hamilton soars thanks to a fantastically talented collection of artists all working at the absolute pinnacle of their respective fields to tell a universally appealing story about men and women striving towards their ideals. The characters may falter, but Hamilton never does, making it the must-see theatrical production of the decade. At one point in the show, the Schuyler sisters sing, "Look around, look around/At how lucky we are to be alive right now." We are all lucky to live in a world where a work as daringly ambitious and wildly successful as Hamilton exists.

This Diva Needs Her Stage, Small Though It May Be

Review: Shows for Days

Caught with his cell phone out during the show, Michael Urie is forced to hide from Patti LuPone's wrath.

Douglas Carter Beane must be quite the charmer. Despite a tenuous grasp of cohesive storytelling technique, the playwright and musical librettist not only continually convinces producers to mount his often undercooked shows, but he also manages to attract some of the industry's top talent to perform it. Beane's last play The Nance starred no less than the great Nathan Lane, and his latest work Shows for Days has the distinction of featuring two-time Tony-winner Patti LuPone in one of the central roles. LuPone does heroic work in a play that doesn't really merit her many talents, even if individual scenes in the piece prove to be side-splittingly hilarious.

This semi-autobiographical comedy about Beane's early days in the theatre follows Car, the idealized author stand-in who stumbles across a small community theatre troupe in Reading, Pennsylvania during the summer of 1973. Initially volunteering as a set painter to kill time, 14-year-old Car finds himself entranced by the allure of this tight-knit group of misfits led by the firebrand producer/director/actress Irene. Irene dreams of a permanent, legitimate theatre company to rival any of the town's established troupes, using her outsized personality to cajole, convince, or outright threaten the city into supporting her cause with funds and free performance space. Car soon becomes a valuable member of the group, eventually commissioned to write their first original play all while trying to find an escape from the small town life that has left him feeling trapped.

John Lee Beatty's set cleverly mimics the organized chaos of any low-budget performance space, with colored tape indicating the outlines of the play's many different settings (this will be instantly familiar to anyone who has ever set foot inside a rehearsal studio). Beane and director Jerry Zaks also use the charming conceit of Car literally setting the stage as he narrates his life, moving chairs, tables, and other pieces of furniture to their various locations as the action shifts from place to place. It all evokes a warm nostalgia for the simplicity of small scale theatre, and reminds you of the magic that can be achieved by a group of actors fully committed to doing their best with whatever is onhand.

Unfortunately, Beane's script is the opposite of simple, so overstuffed with sitcom-style zingers that the intricacies of the plot get lost amid the quest for laughs. While portions of the script are admittedly very funny, all of playwright's dialogue smacks of a need to demonstrate the breadth of his theatrical knowledge and wit. It's acceptable and even admirable to expect your audience to keep pace with your rapid-fire references (Something Rotten is grossing a million dollars a week using precisely that brand of humor), but Beane's writing tries a little too hard to call attention to how clever he's being, with a vague air of judgment should you be unable to keep up. Beane and Zaks also appear uncomfortable with any moment of genuine emotion, bulldozing over the play's more serious beats in a breakneck race towards the next punchline.

As Car, Michael Urie is in no way a convincing teenager (something both the actor and the script acknowledge early on), but he brings an impish, innocent quality to his performance that is innately appealing despite its lack of depth. Urie embodies the play's more negative aspects by shamelessly mugging throughout, even during the few times when Car is required to show some genuine anguish. The actor's undisputable good looks also undermine a key subplot where the object of Car's first crush specifically rejects him for being sexually undesirable, which in a play with so much metahumor registers as a joke until you realize that is actually the root of the pair's relationship issues.

While Urie may be the nominal lead, LuPone is the unquestioned star of the show. Yes, casting the famously temperamental LuPone as an outsized theatrical diva is an obvious choice, but the genius of her performance is she manages to simultaneously surprise while also giving you exactly what you expect. She chews the scenery while delivering many of the play's best lines, highlighting her top notch comic timing in an effortlessly hilarious performance. Yet unlike Urie, LuPone remembers to create a real person underneath Irene's over the top exterior, and when the script presents her with the opportunity to let us see behind that bravura façade she brilliantly capitalizes on it. The few times Irene's shell cracks and we glimpse the wounded woman underneath not only showcase LuPone's versatility, but also ground Irene as recognizably human and someone worth rooting for.

The rest of the cast offers solid support to the two leads, although the script doesn't provide them with much more than broadly drawn outlines. Dale Soules as the lesbian stage manager Sid is the most multi-dimensional, although her more understated moments get lost among the overt hamminess of Urie's mugging. Jordan Dean plays the dumb pretty boy very well, and Zoe Winters is suitably high strung as the needy actress Maria. Understudy Lance Roberts went on in the role of the troupe's gay leading man Clive at the performance I saw, and did a fine job despite the fact that Beane has written him as a caricature rather than an actual human.

Ultimately, Shows for Days proves to be an enjoyable if slightly frustrating experience as LuPone and company struggle to find the right balance between the play's farcical leanings and its brief flirtations with more dramatic material. Playwright Beane's insistence on making almost every line a laugh line proves exhausting for both the cast and the audience, a relentlessness that is only highlighted by Zaks' by the numbers staging. Yet Beane has an obvious and sincere affection for both this period of his life and small-scale theatre in general, lending the play just enough emotional honesty that it cannot be dismissed completely out of hand. Patti LuPone once again proves she is a theatrical force to be reckoned with, and if nothing else, Shows provides its audience with the chance to watch this legendary diva work her magic.

Fear No More, for Shakespeare in the Park Has Done It Again

Review: Cymbeline

Hamish Linklater as the oafish Cloten and Lily Rabe as the pure-hearted Imogen in Shakespeare in the Park's latest production of William Shakespeare's Cymbeline.

Director Daniel Sullivan and actors Lily Rabe and Hamish Linklater have become beloved staples of the Public Theatre's annual productions at Central Park's Delacorte Theatre, tackling some of Shakespeare's greatest works with an unfailing dedication to excellence. This season the three acclaimed artists have teamed up for a pared-down version of Shakespeare's late career romance Cymbeline, and the results are quintessential Shakespeare in the Park: superbly acted, highly accessible, and fully embracing the open air setting for an evening of theatrical magic.

One of the Bard's less performed works, Cymbeline is actually the story of the title character's daughter, Princess Imogen. Against her father's wishes, Imogen has married a commoner named Posthumus Leonatus, a move which so outrages King Cymbeline that he banishes Posthumus to Italy. With Posthumus out of the way, the Queen - who is not Imogen's mother but Cymbeline's second wife - attempts to secure her family's royal position by marrying her loutish son Cloten to the princess, who despises him. Meanwhile, Posthumus makes a wager with the boastful Italian Iachimo that Imogen's heart is so pure it is incorruptible, leading Iachimo to travel to England and attempt to seduce the fair princess. There is also a subplot involving a war between Rome and Britain over unpaid monetary tributes, not to mention the mystery of Cymbeline's missing sons.

The plot is one of the most complex in all of Shakespeare, but thanks to Sullivan's expert direction and uniformly strong performances from the cast, this Cymbeline is easy to follow even without the benefit of the synopsis included in the program. This high level of accessibility is even more impressive given Sullivan's decision to double and triple cast most of his ensemble of 9 to fill the play's 16+ speaking roles. Smart costuming by David Zinn and distinctive hair and wig designs by Charles G. LaPointe combine with the physical malleability of the cast so that there is never any confusion over who is playing whom and when, adding to the production's magical quality and the evening's general sense of fun.

Rabe has tackled many of Shakespeare's most famous ingénues during her time in the park, and her Imogen is every bit the equal to her Portia and her Beatrice from seasons past. Rabe instantly commands the stage with her unmistakably regal presence, bringing an inner fire to Imogen while at the same time keeping the character's melodramatic leanings in check. When Rabe espouses the play's many rich and varied declarations of love she is utterly believable, and her sincerity grounds a work filled to the brim with credibility-straining coincidences. The luminescent actress can also access deep reserves of sorrow at the drop of a hat, crying giant, glistening tears during several of the production's more heart-wrenching moments.

Rabe's real-life partner Linklater tackles the dual roles of Imogen's exiled husband Posthumus and her unwanted suitor Cloten. As Posthumus, Linklater is an appealing romantic lead who is also capable of portraying the deep-seated rage that propels the character's actions through much of the second half (like Othello, Posthumus is a tad too quick to believe the worst about his wife). But Linklater's true showcase and the actor's clear favorite is the impossibly dim Cloten, who he plays to hammy perfection. Linklater fills Cloten's scenes with side-splittingly funny business while finding every conceivable joke in the character's dialogue, and his over the top rendition of "Hark, Hark the Lark" is one of the evening's highlights. (All the play's original music is provided by Next to Normal composer Tom Kitt, who offers work as strong and melodically interesting as any he's written for the musical stage.)

Patrick Page is wonderfully imposing as the title character, tiptoeing right up to the line of absurdity without actually crossing it. Kate Burton is suitably despicable as his second wife, clearly having a blast with the Queen's conniving ways. The surprise with Burton is that she is perhaps even more entertaining and convincing as Belarius, the disgraced nobleman who has been secretly raising Cymbeline's missing sons for the past twenty years. Four time Tony-nominee Raul Esparza struggles to find the right balance between Iachimo's smarmy, off-putting personality and the play's comedic leanings, failing to find the humor in his character's introductory scene and generally being a bit too terrible of a person for audiences to fully surrender to the evening's many charms. It is by no means a bad performance, but with Sullivan and the rest of his cast choosing to highlight the text's humor Esparza stands out in the wrong way.

After 53 summers at the Delacorte, Shakespeare in the Park has become a New York institution, bringing high quality productions of some of the greatest works in the theatrical cannon to the populace free of charge. Cymbeline is yet another triumph for director Sullivan and lead actors Rabe and Linklater, proving that this trio can work their magic on the Bard's more problematic plays just as easily as they can on populist classics like Much Ado About Nothing or The Merchant of Venice. Despite the intricate plot, this production is a marvel of accessible clarity without once sacrificing the complexities of Shakespeare's beautiful language or his observations on human nature, and is highly recommended for both Shakespearean scholars and the layperson alike.