Style Over Substance, but a Style Worth a Second Look

Review: Spring Awakening

The vast majority of the cast of the Spring Awakening revival are making their Broadway debut, which makes their complaints about "The Bitch of a Living" a little hard to swallow.

It's been just under 9 years since the Duncan Sheik-Steven Sater musical Spring Awakening took Broadway by storm, and only 6 since that Tony-winning original production played its final performance, so you'd be forgiven for questioning why such a relatively new property already merits a full scale revival. But the Broadway transfer of Deaf West's visually stunning take on this angst filled musical drama quickly is so boldly reimagined it quickly justifies its existence, almost immediately banishing any thoughts of the original. Performed simultaneously in spoken English and American Sign Language, this Spring Awakening may ultimately be a case of style over substance, but it also proves there is more to this tale of teenage sexual discovery than initially meets the eye.

Based on a controversial German play of the same name from 1891, Spring Awakening explores the burgeoning passions of a group of teenagers who have little frame of reference for the numerous changes they're experiencing. Already in the midst of puberty, young Wendla has a whole host of questions about her developing body that her mother refuses to answer. The slightly older Moritz faces similar confusions about his growing sexual urges, and seeks the answers from his best friend and the school's star student Melchior. Melchior does his best to educate Moritz while also dealing with his growing attraction to Wendla, all of which must be handled largely in secret due to the extremely conservative parents and teachers who run the children's lives.

As written, the show is more of an expressionistic mood piece than a narrative driven musical; the plot is fairly straightforward and rather predictable, although given is roots as a century old morality tale that can be largely forgiven. Under the direction of Michael Arden and utilizing Deaf West's signature mixture of ASL and spoken dialogue, this production becomes even more stylized than the famously conceptual original. Several characters are portrayed by multiple actors, with one performer signing the role and the other voicing their dialogue and songs. Movement figures heavily into the piece, with Arden and choreographer Spencer Liff utilizing the inherent expressiveness of ASL to take the place of more traditional choreography. The emotional and visual impact of this approach cannot be overstated, with multiple musical numbers becoming heart-stoppingly gorgeous under the pair's artistic eye.

Furthering the show's visual panache is Ben Stanton's incredible lighting design, which is smartly married with Lucy MacKinnon's understated but impactful projections. Unlike many contemporary pieces, the projections here are rarely the scenic focus and at times barely noticeable, embellishing the already rich lighting and movement rather than replacing them. When the staging, lights, and projections are all working in perfect harmony, as they do during "The Mirror-Blue Night" and the showstopping "Totally Fucked," Spring Awakening becomes one of the most visually arresting productions of the year. Arden and his team do an exceptional job of communicating the excitement and terror of being a teenager reaching sexual maturity, and the production's greatest accomplishment is reminding the audience of this universally shared experience.

The performances are generally strong, although the relative inexperience of some cast members does prevent the show from becoming all it can be. Sandra Mae Frank is wonderfully expressive as Wendla, ably supported by Katie Boeck as the Voice of Wendla. Of all the characters played by multiple actors, Frank and Boeck are the most in sync, bringing out Wendla's youthful innocence without seeming so naïve she becomes difficult to root for. Daniel N. Durant and Alex Boniello aren't quite as successful as the deeply troubled Moritz (Durant signs, Boniello speaks), occasionally telegraphing the character's fate even more than the already blunt script. Austin P. McKenzie both signs and sings the role of Melchoir with an appealing earnestness, helping to ground the production as it veers into more melodramatic territory during the second act.

In supporting roles, both Andy Mientus (as the seductive Hanschen) and Krysta Rodriguez (as runaway Ilse) make strong impressions. Oscar winner Marlee Matlin makes her Broadway debut playing several of the Adult Women, a responsibility she shares with fellow screen star Camryn Manheim. Both actresses are in fine form, commanding the stage with their presence and providing multiple fully realized characters during their limited stagetime. Patrick Page is also excellent as the majority of the Adult Men, using his distinctively musical speaking voice to maximum effect as most of the play's authority figures.

Overall, there is plenty to recommend this new Spring Awakening, both to the show's diehard fans and those who might be skeptical of the piece's artistic merits. The book might not hold together quite as well as it seemed to 9 years ago, but the score is arguably even more impressive in hindsight. Combined with director Arden and choreographer Liff's pulse-pounding staging and the committed performances from the production's game cast, the show still has a lot to say about the confusion of puberty and the dangers of trying to shield children from the world's less seemly realities. The thorough integration of ASL into the show's very fiber is so well done it is difficult to imagine what the piece would be like without it, and for that reason alone this revival is both justified and worth the price of admission.

One Song More

Review: Les Miserables

You might think that it's makeup that makes Ramin Karimloo look older by the end of Les Miserables, but the show is just that long.

Full disclosure: the first Broadway show I ever saw was the original production of Les Miserables, towards the tail end of its run.  I came into the Imperial Theatre knowing every word of the two-disc cast recording, and the ensuing three hours was pure magic.  I don't know if this makes me more or less qualified to pass judgement on the recently opened and reimagined production; I'm obviously fond of the material, but I also have powerful memories of the original staging.  Being as objective as possible, it is my sad duty to report that while aspects of this revival truly sing, it ultimately doesn't justify remounting this classic show so soon after it's last Broadway appearance.

Adapted from Victor Hugo's sprawling French novel, Les Miserables is at its core the story of convicted thief Jean Valjean and his efforts to find redemption after being shown compassion by an elderly Bishop.  Valjean changes his name, and through a rather circuitous set of circumstances agrees to care for the young daughter of a dying factory worker named Fantine.  Valjean moves with his new charge to Paris and raises her while avoiding the suspicions of the rigid Inspector Javert, who doesn't believe in redemption and still holds Valjean accountable for breaking his parole two decades later.  If this all sounds a bit convoluted, that's what happens when one tries to condense a thousand page novel into a three hour contemporary opera.

Laurence Connor and James Powell's updated staging (which ditches the original's famous turntable in favor of more traditional scenic design) highlights the weakness in the show's plotting.  All the essential details are in Alain Boublil and Claude-Michel Schonberg's score, but they are easy to miss if the director (or directors, in this case) aren't actively highlighting them.  This staging is narratively muddy and seems to deemphasize the story's emotional throughline, which makes all of the death and suffering drag on into eternity.  This production doesn't actually run longer than the original's three hour runtime, but it does drag in a way the old show didn't.  Without the emotional investment in the quickly sketched characters, the show's plot contrivances and leaps in logic stick out like sore thumbs.  Does anyone without a history degree understand who General Lamarc was, or why his death prompted a bunch of students to stage a revolution that eventually got them all killed?  And how does a policeman the entire city fears manage to go undercover by changing his coat (only to be called out by a prepubescent boy)?

On the positive side, Boublil and Schonberg's score is as lovely as ever, and although the nostop parade of power ballads becomes tiresome by evening's end, there's no denying that those ballads sure do sound pretty.  The show is also one of the more intelligent examples of repeated motifs and melodic reprises to come out of the British Invasion of the 80s, and thanks to new orchestrations the show is free of the overly synthesized sound that defines so much of the music from that era.

The one unequivocally great thing about this revival is Ramin Karimloo's superbly sung and acted Jean Valjean.  Already an established star in London's West End, Karimloo is a force of nature as the wronged but deeply noble Valjean.  There is an animalistic intensity to his performance that immediately grabs you, and watching Karimloo temper that fury as his character ages and matures is electrifying.  Karimloo is blessed with a spine-tinglingly good tenor that sounds fantastic on his many big numbers, and he attacks the part with a ferocity and conviction that he grounds all of the melodramatic spectacle through the sheer force of his sincerity.  Seeing Karimloo perform Valjean's iconic second act ballad "Bring Him Home," a prayer that God spare the life of his daughter's newfound love, is a masterclass in vocal technique and musical storytelling.  For those glorious three minutes, everything else melts away and this Les Miserables becomes the emotionally stirring story it so desperately wants to be.

The rest of the cast is hit or miss.  Will Swenson acquits himself much better than expected as the ruthless Inspector Javert, sharing a particularly strong chemistry with Karimloo.  Their scenes pop with a deliciously menacing energy; their "Confrontation" feels genuinely dangerous, as if one or both men could snap at any moment (it is also one of the more convincing instances of combat in a show where the onstage violence often looks laughably fake).  Unfortunately, Swenson is singing outside of his comfort zone, which robs his two big solos of the vocal heft they deserve.  Meanwhile, Andy Mientus makes for a bland Marius, and Kyle Scatliffe's student revolutionary Enjolras is all bark and no bite.

Among the women, Cassie Levy comes across the best as the doomed Fantine, although her well-sung version of "I Dreamed a Dream" isn't the emotional sucker punch the show needs it to be.  Tony-winner Nikki M. James appears lost in the role of lovelorn street urchin Eponine, wandering the stage uncertainly during her Act II power ballad "On My Own."  The youthful innocence and genuine longing she demonstrated in The Book of Mormon is curiously absent here, making her supposed unrequited love for Marius feel forced and the pair's final duet unearned.  And while the pretty ingénue Cosette is a woefully underwritten joke of a role, surely there exists an actress who can do more with it than the underwhelming Samantha Hill.

The show's only (and desperately needed) comic relief is provided by Cliff Saunders and Keala Settle as Mr. and Mrs. Thenardier, the shifty innkeepers who have been caring for Cosette before Valjean comes to take her away.  While Thenardier's songs provide a welcomed injection of levity into the night's proceedings, Saunders mugs so shamelessly that he ends up being just as tiresome as all of the gloom and doom.  Meanwhile, Settle proves that her Tony-nominated performance in Hands on a Hardbody was not a fluke, turning her brief stagetime into some of the most memorable minutes of this overblown revival.  Settle milks the role of Madame Thenardier for all it's worth, and one can only hope this talented actress' next vehicle offers her more of a chance to showcase her talents.

Visually, the show wavers between being a beautiful mess and just a mess, often within the same scene.  Some of Matt Kinley's scenic design is stunning - his multi-tiered vision of the Paris streets is particularly impressive - while some of it clearly suffers from the lack of the original's turntable (several portions of the barricade sequence aren't nearly as effective without being able to rotate the thing around to see what's on the other side).  Andreane Neofitou and Christine Rowland's costumes appear cheap, even on the characters who aren't dressed in tattered rags, and Paule Constable's lighting design is far too dark for much of the show's runtime.  There are times when the grandeur of the original production is sorely missed, especially since the lack of bells and whistles tends to expose the weaknesses in the storytelling.

Ultimately, this Les Miserables does little to disguise the fact that it is a cash grab meant to capitalize on renewed interest generated by the Oscar-winning film version.  The songs are as gorgeous as ever and generally well sung, if not always well acted, and Ramin Karimloo's portrayal of Jean Valjean *almost* justifies the price of admission.  If Mr. Karimloo's costars were all at his level, this production would be one of the highlights of the season, but instead it is an inoffensive diversion that slightly outstays its welcome thanks to a mammoth runtime.  Hopefully the producers of the next Broadway production will wait until there's a truly compelling, new take on the material before promising the audience "one day more."