SWEET POTATO QUEENS @ New Line Theatre

Hello, folks! The first review of 2024 is here in video form: Sweet Potato Queens @ New Line Theatre. The video is only just over 30 minutes long, and I do not have the storage space here to upload it. So, here’s a link for you to view it on my YouTube channel: Sweet Potato Queens @ New Line Theatre

Be sure to subscribe to the YouTube channel to see more video reviews. If I manage to get them under 30 minutes, they’ll be visible here.

Also, I set up a Ko-Fi fund so you can send a one-time or rolling monthly donation to support my reviews. Your generosity and investment in the future of Jack Reviews Musicals is greatly appreciated.

Until next time, Long Live the Musical!

A Special Announcement…

Hello, folks, and Happy New Year’s Eve! I couldn’t get this announcement out for Christmas because my body was too busy dying. Tis the season.

With the terms that ended the last reviews of the year, as well as me being sick, I ended 2023 on a really sour note. Because of this, I’m acting on a decision I’ve been making for the last six months.

My theatre reviews will now be moving to a video format instead of essays. These videos will be available to watch on here as well as my YouTube channel — Jack Reviews Musicals. I will also be making my reviews audience-supported through Ko-Fi.

With 2023 finishing off two full years of musical theatre punditry and criticism, I’m ready to take the next step. This is going to be challenging, for sure, but I’m absolutely looking forward to it. Thank you for joining me on this voyage through the world of musical theatre, whether you’ve been here since the beginning or not. I really hope you enjoy what’s coming next. I think you’ll love it, because I certainly will.

Thank you for being here. Until next time, Long Live the Musical!

The 25th Annual Putnam County Spelling Bee @ Fly North Theatricals

Music and Lyrics by William Finn

Book by Rachel Sheinkin

Additional Material by Jay Reiss

Based on the play C-R-E-P-U-S-C-U-L-E by Rebecca Feldman

Running December 8 - 17, 2023 @ The Greenfinch Theatre

Published December 17, 2023

*PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU GET TO THE REVIEW* Unfortunately, due to scheduling conflicts that were outside of my control, as well as a complete lack of foresight on my part, I have not been able to see New Jewish Theatre’s December 2023 production of Into the Woods before the run became sold out. This will be my final review of the year. No, I’m not bitter at all, shut up! This production does not have a printed program, so if I don’t credit every person involved, I apologize. *DISCLAIMER OVER*

Much like St. Lou Fringe’s Bare, I’m cheating a little bit by reviewing Fly North Theatricals’ production of The 25th Annual Putnam County Spelling Bee. This showing is technically, by all accounts, a fundraiser. The tickets are “Pay What You Want” admission, and all of the proceeds are going towards Fly North’s Theatre For All Initiative, which will award $10,000 in scholarships to St. Louis-based performing arts students. As someone who wishes they had this at a young age, I see this as an absolute win, and I give a huge kudos to Fly North for making it happen.

What better musical to raise money for young people’s charity than a musical about young people starring young people? Most professional productions of Spelling Bee traditionally star adult actors as the kid characters, but Fly North’s is one of the few that practice age-appropriate casting, featuring actors between the ages of 10 and 18 years old as the kids. What I love about this choice is not just the authenticity of the kids’ performances, but also the fact that director Colin Healy gave these kids a lot of creative freedom, leading to some very unique characterizations.

The most interesting performance choices came from the protagonists, William Barfee and Olive Ostrovsky, who are played by Langston Casey and Ally Willeke, respectively. Instead of the stereotypical angry nerd portrayal, Casey plays Barfee as a prim-and-proper, holier-than-thou brat loaded with what I’ve heard on TikTok as “‘tism rizz.” If you know, you know. Instead of a piteous sadsack, Willeke plays Olive as someone who has been constantly beaten down by life, to the point where they’ve accepted defeat over their lot in life rather than be tortured by it. Casey and Willeke were both revelations for me, portraying these characters in ways I’ve never seen before in literally any production of Spelling Bee.

The rest of the kids’ performances were by the book, but no less special – they still gave us their best renditions of these unforgettable characters: Duncan Barbour as Chip Tolentino, Ryan Dabbs as Leaf Coneybear, Brea Johnson as Marcy Park, and 10-year-old Sydney Cothron in her live musical theatre debut as Logainne Schwartzandgrubenierre (definitely a name to watch for right there). Also turning in excellent work are the three adult actors: Sarah Lantsberger as Rona Lisa Peretti, Jordan Wolk as Douglas Panch, and Brian McKinley as Mitch Mahoney.

If there is one gripe that I have about this production, it might be that Colin Healy’s direction can sometimes be a bit too broad, comedically speaking. There are some moments where both the staging and the choreography by Angela Healy fall into the trap of making a silly gag for the sake of being silly. Without giving anything away, there were some particularly gratuitous comedy bits during the show that didn’t add to anything, kind of took me out of the story, and made me a little uncomfortable. But it wasn’t enough to ruin the show for me.

However, the weaknesses of Colin Healy’s directing are wholly made up for by his projection designs, another element unique to this production. The projections, in tandem with the lighting design by Bradley Rohlf, were very fun, very stylized, and very creative, not to mention how helpful they were in delineating the fantasy of the songs from the reality of the story.

Fly North Theatricals’ The 25th Annual Putnam County Spelling Bee is a charming showcase for some truly great young talent in St. Louis that I look forward to seeing more of as they grow up. It may not have been perfect, but it was a unique experience all its own, and that’s all that matters. Honestly, that is the perfect ethos to describe St. Louis musical theatre in 2023: I saw a lot of imperfect productions and quite a few stinkers, but at least the journey was never boring.

The next time you hear from me will be on Christmas Day. Stay tuned for a special announcement…

Photography by Julie Merkle

Poster designed by Colin Healy

Jesus and Johnny Appleweed’s Holy Rollin’ Family Christmas @ New Line Theatre

Music, Lyrics and Book by Scott Miller

Orchestrations by John Gerdes

Running November 30 - December 16, 2023 @ The Grandel Theatre

Published December 7, 2023

Jesus and Johnny Appleweed’s Holy Rollin’ Family Christmas – there’s a title that sounds like…a lot. And I’m not gonna lie, that is the biggest problem with New Line Theatre’s original musical currently serving as their holiday offering. There are a lot of things happening in company artistic director Scott Miller’s music, lyrics and book that are very strange, very odd, somewhat memorable, mostly forgettable, doesn’t have a whole lot of focus, and doesn’t exactly amount to much that we haven’t already heard in more cohesive musicals. It is very much a show that could only be cooked up by a stoner who is not afraid to tell you he is a stoner. But I’m not saying it’s bad or anything, it’s just…okay, I’m getting way ahead of myself, let’s get into the context.

Jesus and Johnny Appleweed’s Holy Rollin’ Family Christmas is the spiritual holiday-themed sequel to Johnny Appleweed, another original musical that was written by Scott Miller and performed by New Line Theatre all the way back in 2006. The titular bitchular is a Johnny Appleseed parody who spreads the Lord’s Good Word by planting not apple seeds but dank holy kush. Obviously, it’s a very satirical, very pro-pot musical, and JJAHRFC is no different. Whereas the original took place in modern day America, this new show thrusts us back in time all the way to Christmas Eve 1959.

The show starts with a chorus of stoner Christmas carolers introducing us to the Goodsons, a “heteronormative, conservative, vaguely racist,” stereotypical sitcom nuclear family – an image that is upheld by family patriarch Harry. That is, until Harry’s wife, Bess, puts marijuana in the Christmas cookies. It is on this night that Harry’s family – Bess, his teenage children Tammy and Chip, and his brother-in-law Hugh – reveal that every single one of them are pot smokers except for Harry. Not only that, but each of the Goodsons tell Harry deeply-held secrets that completely shatter Harry’s narrow view of them and reveal just how repressed Harry’s world really is.

Harry feels so betrayed by his family that he shuns them outright, choosing to sleep on the couch this Christmas Eve. Then suddenly, at midnight, Harry is visited in his dreams by none other than Jesus Christ, this show’s other titular bitchular. Jesus goes Jacob Marley on Harry’s ass and summons three spirits that strongly resemble his family – Harry’s dead twin brother Jerry, a strung-out alcoholic Sandra Dee, and of course Johnny Appleweed himself – who all tell Harry his life would be so much better if he stopped being an uptight jackass and smoke a bowl. And so, like Ebenezer Scrooge before him, Harry has a change of heart, reconciles with his family, and has himself a “Holy Rollin’ Christmas.”

On the one hand, I have to admire JJAHRFC for just how much it’s throwing at us. For one thing, this show is one big mashup of Reefer Madness, Johnny Appleseed, A Christmas Carol, The Wizard of Oz, even the films of Luis Buñuel like The Exterminating Angel or The Descreet Charm of the Bourgeoisie. The musical’s subjects of satire are too numerous to count: heteronormativity, racism, conservatism, fear-mongering, predatory government policies, addiction, sexual deviancy, conformity, feminism, etc. But on the other hand, the satire very quickly got to the point where I started to panic that I wouldn’t be able to comprehend everything. The further I reflect on JJAHRFC, the more trouble I have with that exact problem.

This show’s ambition is way too high for its own good. Every second, there’s a new info-dump or bombshell from one character or another, someone doing something strange or making some kind of quirky reference, and it’s not helped by the show’s rather stilted and awkward libretto. There are jokes that land and some fun character moments, but we never get any time to let it all sink in. I do feel like I’m being way too harsh here, but on the other hand, the original Johnny Appleweed, which you can watch for free on New Line Theatre’s YouTube channel, suffers from the same issue. I love Scott Miller as a director, and I highly admire his accomplishments as a musician and an essayist. I know Miller had good intentions when he wrote both of these shows, but I feel like he tries way too hard to satirize every facet of America’s repressed ugliness and cultural oppression, both in the early 2000s and the late 1950s, to the point they both feel more like laundry lists than enjoyable theatrical experiences. Case in point: the absurdity of Harry’s bigoted worldview is made all the more absurd by the casting of racially diverse actors as the Goodsons. This, along with most of the satire, combined with the laundry-list story structure, is so on-the-nose that it makes the whole experience kind of dull.

I know in my heart that I'm not the only one not on the same page as Miller. Much of the acting in this production is very uneven, particularly from the male performers. Terrell Thompson as Harry doesn't really get a chance to show off his acting strengths until his change-of-heart at the end. The show’s structure also doesn't give us time to sympathize with Harry until the end of Act I, where his “tragic backstory” is explained in a song that is sung by the stoner carolers and not him. A theatrically satisfying protagonist, Harry isn't. Tawaine Noah is fine as sexual deviant Hugh and dead twin Jerry, with good characterization and vocals, but again, never standing out until the end. Co-director and choreographer Tony L. Marr is also fine as the closeted homosexual Chip, and he pulls off some killer dance moves as a hip-hoppin’, breakdancing Jesus. Marr’s choreography in the rest of the show is also fun at times, but most of the dancing feels a bit overdone and not very cohesive with the show's musical style. The best performers of the production are Kay Love as Bess and Johnny, and Marlee Wenski as Tammy and Sandra Dee. Love and Wenski’s characterizations and vocals are both excellent, shining in every moment and feeling like they are completely in tune with Miller’s writing and directing. The stoner carolers – Robert Doyle, Matt Hill, Stephanie Merritt, and Lauren Tenenbaum – are a decent chorus that, once again, stand out only sometimes. It all comes back around to the show doing way too much to let the performances breathe.

Scott Miller’s music and John Gerdes’s orchestrations absolutely nail the jazzy stylings of Burt Bacharach and Marvin Hamlisch, though the songs eventually started to sound samey to me. The musical direction by Mallory Golden is fun and bouncy, complementing the style beautifully. Golden leads the always mighty New Line Band with herself on the keys, Adam Rugo on guitar, John Gerdes on bass, Brad Martin on percussion, and Joseph Hendricks and Alex Macke on the reeds.

New Line Theatre is performing JJAHRFC at the Grandel Theatre, a venue they have never performed in before – much larger than the Marcelle Theatre. New Line adapted their typical production values for the Grandel almost seamlessly. The set by Dr. Rob Lippert is an excellent recreation of a mid-century modern ranch-style living room, complete with a working fireplace. The lighting by Matt Stuckel is bright, colorful, and vibrant – including some amusing pot leaf gobos. The costumes by Lauren Smith Beardon fit the period and the season well, and the ghosts’ outfits in particular are a masterclass in storytelling through clothes.

Overall, Jesus and Johnny Appleweed’s Holy Rollin’ Family Christmas is a very clumsy and not very well put together musical. It either needed to be workshopped, or it needed a couple of rewrites to make it complete. But I’m not going to say that it’s straight up bad because there are elements of New Line Theatre’s production that really work. It's the company’s ambition and good intentions that keep me from not recommending it or even from outright hating it. If you’re a stoner yourself, you'll probably enjoy it way more than I did. Until next time: Have a Holy Rollin’ Christmas!

Photography by Jill Ritter Lindberg

Poster designed by Matt Reedy

The Mad Ones @ Tesseract Theatre

Music, Lyrics, and Book by Kait Kerrigan and Bree Lowdermilk

Running November 3 - 12, 2023 @ The Marcelle Theatre

Published November 11, 2023

Longtime readers might have caught on at this point that for every musical that I have reviewed on this blog, I always brought along a plus-one to view it with me. This is a common practice in media criticism; by gauging your plus-one’s reaction to the media you’re reviewing, you’re effectively simulating what it’s like to see it as an audience member rather than a reviewer. For me personally, it leads to much more honest reviews, allowing me to recommend a show both as a musical theatre turbo-nerd and as a casual viewer. The reason why I’m being so transparent about this is after seeing Tesseract Theatre’s production of Kate Kerrigan and Bree Lowdermilk’s The Mad Ones, my plus-one completely broke down crying on the drive out of the Marcelle Theatre. It was only after such a strong reaction that I could gain the confidence to tell you right here, right now, that The Mad Ones is up with Bare as one of the most original, daring, emotional, resonant, relevant, powerful, thought-provoking musicals I’ve ever seen.

The Mad Ones takes place entirely inside the mind of its protagonist, Samantha Brown, during one singular moment frozen in time. She stands alone in her yard, about to leave home for college. She is holding her car keys in her hand when suddenly, a wave of a million memories floods her mind as she tries to answer that classic question: should she stay home or should she really leave? Sam is perfectly aware that there is an audience peering into her mind, so she decides to tell us the whole truth about what’s happening in her head at this exact instance.

In her senior year of high school, Sam discovers and becomes obsessed with Jack Kerouac’s novelized anthem for the Beat Generation, On the Road. After reading it, Sam realizes that she is exactly like the novel’s protagonist, Sal Paradise: they’re both surrounded by people who constantly tell them to be one way or another, to the point where they just want to be okay with not knowing what their future will be, to be okay with experiencing uncertainty for once.

In Sam’s case, her life is dictated by three people. The first is her mother, Beverly, a statistician who literally wrote the book on safe driving, and ironically failed to teach Sam how to drive four times. Beverly is the direct source of Sam’s anxiety; she embodies total order and control, raising her daughter to become valedictorian like she did, to get accepted into an Ivy League school like she did, to break the glass ceiling just like she tried to, and to have a fantastic fear of everything by constantly drilling statistics like holes into Sam’s head. Beverly’s response to On the Road: she thinks it’s nothing more than a mere glorification of the patriarchy.

The second person is Sam’s best friend, Kelly Manning, a total party animal. Kelly is carefree, outgoing, rebellious, overenthusiastic, and curious to a fault. She wants Sam to live her life totally free, with no strings attached to anything but her own free will, even if it gets her in serious trouble. Kelly’s response to On the Road: she got bored five pages in and never finished it.

Finally, we have Sam’s boyfriend Adam, who is a total sweetheart. He’s a bit of a nerd, he’s awkward, and he’s rather unadventurous, but he loves Sam more than he can possibly say. He wants Sam to live her life the way she wants to, on her own terms. Adam’s response to On the Road: he sees why Sam loves it so much, and cherishes that connection with his whole heart.

All of these directions pulling Sam this way and that – control, freedom, and safety – are not at all what Sam wants or needs. She desires to be like “the mad ones,” the kind of people described by Jack Kerouac as “the ones who are mad to live, mad to talk, mad to be saved, desirous of everything at the same time, the ones who never yawn or say a commonplace thing, but burn, burn, burn, like fabulous yellow roman candles exploding like spiders across the stars and in the middle you see the blue centerlight pop and everybody goes 'Awww!'" The entire musical is about Sam reconciling these perspectives and reinventing herself somewhere far away from where she is.

I realize this synopsis looks messy, but that’s the reality The Mad Ones grapples with. The issues this show tackles are messy, they’re complicated, they’re heady, they’re deep – all on a level that I have never seen in a musical before in my life. The show’s general theme of learning to be comfortable with uncertainty and be happy with feeling ambivalence towards life is one that me and my plus-one connected with on a profound level. I imagine it connected with everyone in the audience the same way because there was not a single dry eye in the house.

Tesseract Theatre’s The Mad Ones is the directorial debut of Kevin Corpuz, one of my favorite stage actors in St. Louis, and this is a very strong start to his resume. His ability to tap into the story’s gravity and seriousness as well as its heart and authenticity is perfectly reflected in the staging, the performances, and the visuals. Melissa Felps wholly captures Sam’s raw emotional pain for something that she has such a hard time expressing, in a manner that feels real instead of melodramatic. Grace Langford is phenomenal as Kelly – a sassy, energized, truly free spirit that bonds cohesively with Sam, evidenced by Felps and Langford’s convincing chemistry. Sara Gene Dowling is pitch-perfect as Beverly, an incisive, sarcastic, angsty woman who has crafted a life for herself and her daughter based entirely around fear and extreme certainty, yearning to blast through to a new wave of feminism and be in total control of her life. As Adam, Cody Cole gives a wonderful portrayal of the reliable, supportive, kind, and even very funny boyfriend. The cast all have incredible voices thanks to musical director Joe Schoen. Schoen also leads the equally amazing four-piece band with himself and Zach Neumann on the keys, Adam Rugo on guitar, and Chuck Evans on violin – all totally nailing Kait Kerrigan and Bree Lowdermilk’s folk-rock score, perfectly balanced by Jacob Baxley’s sound design.

The production design excels at placing the audience firmly inside Sam’s mind. The set by Todd Schaefer is a series of platforms augmented by steel beams, stars, and an abstraction of a car, all reflecting the decline of Sam’s mentality that she’s constantly falling into chaos. Also figuring into the design are scrims that are backlit at certain moments to make the characters look ethereal and ghostly, an effect that I’m a sucker for. Brittanie Gunn’s lights are beautiful not just in those moments, but the whole show in general, switching between vibrant fantasy and cold reality with stark, colorful aplomb.

The Mad Ones is a deeply powerful examination of uncertainty and anxiety and how it affects you, the people around you, and the way you see the world. It’s a profound theme that is so relevant to our post-COVID world full of aimless young people, I’m surprised I haven’t seen this idea explored in any other musical. I’m very happy with Tesseract Theatre that they saw just how special The Mad Ones really is, and with the work that every artist has put into it to deliver a truly beautiful production. However, if you are going to see it, please remember to bring tissues.

Photography by Florence Flick

Poster designed by Desmond Bryant

Saturday Night Fever @ Stray Dog Theatre

Songs by The Bee Gees

Book by Sean Cercone and David Abbinanti

Adapted by John Stigwood and Bill Oaks

Based on the Paramount/RSO film and the story by Nik Cohn

Ran October 5 - 28, 2023 @ Tower Grove Abbey

Published October 30, 2023

The 1977 film Saturday Night Fever is a cultural phenomenon, serving as the perfect snapshot of disco’s very short heyday, as the launchpad for star John Travolta’s career, and as one of the most often used subjects of parody for anything from the 1970s. With its iconic soundtrack of chart-topping hits by the Bee Gees – “Stayin’ Alive,” “Night Fever,” “You Should Be Dancin’,” “How Deep is Your Love,” etc. – and the image of Travolta posing in his crisp white suit, I find it extremely surprising that no theatre company in St. Louis – professional, amateur, or even educational – has done a single production of the 1998 stage musical adaptation. Ever. Not even once since its premiere in either London’s West End or Broadway. Stray Dog Theatre has become the first local company to take the plunge, with a daring production that, though certainly not perfect, made me realize, in a good way, just why Saturday Night Fever isn’t produced very often.

Tony Manero is a 19-year-old Italian-American man in 1977 Brooklyn whose life is going nowhere: he works in a dead-end job, lives with a family that actively belittles him, and hangs out with friends who are the human embodiments of toxic masculinity. Tony’s only form of escape from the misery and poverty of his everyday life is spending his Saturday nights at the local discotheque, 2001 Odyssey. Here, Tony is the king of the dance floor – women want to dance with him and men want to dance like him. When 2001 Odyssey announces they are holding a $1,000 dance competition, Tony sees his golden ticket out; he just has to find a partner. At first, Tony hires his ex-girlfriend Annette for her talent. But when Tony sees that Annette is still bitter about their breakup, he casts her aside. Tony immediately finds a replacement in the form of Stephanie Mangano, an upwardly mobile young woman who is very much like Tony – always looking for a better life beyond the Verrazzano-Narrows Bridge. But once Tony feels like he finally meets his match with Stephanie, his family, his friends, and his job proceeds to place down roadblock after roadblock in front of him, barriers that keep Tony from feeling truly alive and force him to reevaluate his life and career.

Given the status Saturday Night Fever has as a cultural icon, it would have been so easy to just make this a dance show full of garish glitz and glamor with no substance. But a lot of people tend to forget that the original film is actually very dark and very grim. The cinematography is hazy, the colors are muted, and the costumes and sets are way less over-the-top than many people think it is. In Stray Dog’s production, the set by Josh Smith is an industrial jungle of stairs and steel beams that emphasize the grunge of 70s New York, switching between the disco, the studio, the bridge, and many more locations as needed. The lights by Tyler Duenow effectively translate the haziness of the film’s lighting, only truly dazzling during the dance scenes, including a light-up dance floor with a foil mirror drop. Even the costumes by Colleen Michelson feel more like the cast’s Sunday Best rather than the typical image of the disco subculture, but I think it contributes well to translating the film’s high realism for the stage.

That’s not even to mention the intensely cynical dialogue scenes. The film contains frightening depictions of verbal and emotional abuse, which are intact on stage. The film also portrays graphic physical and sexual violence, the latter of which are only alluded to on stage, though the consequences of these actions are made clear to the audience, courtesy of the staging by director Justin Been.

Everyone likes to think that Saturday Night Fever was the beginning of the “Dreams Come True If You Dance” type of movie that exploded in the 70s and 80s, but it’s really not. If anything, it’s more of an indictment of that very mentality. It’s a story that says centering your life around the decadence that disco drenches itself in, striving to be the most physically gorgeous person you can be, is not a life worth living. Hell, that very message Saturday Night Fever was trying to communicate actively led to the Death of Disco. It really is a crying shame that people ignore the film’s central message in favor of mocking its iconography. But just like he did with A Little Night Music, Justin Been does an incredible job of translating the message and tone of the original film to the stage, and every single person involved with this production responded to this vision with their utmost respect, loyalty, and hard work. And I do mean hard.

Drew Mizell carries this show as Tony; he is a dead ringer for John Travolta in his looks, his voice, his mannerisms, and his killer dance moves. But again, we can’t forget the dramatic weight he has to carry, too; Tony is a man who only has one passion in life that is precious to him and moves him forward but is constantly surrounded by total losers that drain any motivation he’s ever had, to the point that he becomes incredibly nihilistic. That’s some pretty deep stuff for a Bee Gees jukebox musical, and Mizell rolls with it. Sara Rae Womack is stellar as Stephanie, full of the unmitigated cheek and standoffish posturing that serves as Tony’s perfect match. The chemistry between these two, portraying characters who slowly discover they are artistic equals in every way, is captivating to watch. You truly feel their friendship budding before your eyes.

The supporting cast is also quite good. The constantly bickering Manero family is played with gusto by Matt Anderson as the disgruntled father Frank, Kay Love as the devout Catholic mother Flo, Nadja Kapetanovich as the quiet younger sister Linda, and Sean Seifert as the family golden boy Frankie, who makes a huge decision about his career that changes the family’s dynamic forever. The Maneros also double up on a few ensemble roles: Anderson as Tony’s cheapskate boss Mr. Fusco, Love as sleazy dance instructor Petra, and Seifert as Tony’s friend Gus.

Tony’s other dickhead friends are played by Justin Bouckaert as the conflicted Bobby C, Michael Cox as the immature Joey, and Jayson Heil as the hammy Double-J. Lindsay Grojean as Tony’s ex Annette gives a very heartfelt portrayal of the loneliness, the depression, and the confusion of having nowhere to go after a breakup. Maggie Nold also delivers on desperation as Bobby C’s girlfriend Paulette, who complicates the plot with a troubling secret of her own. At 2001 Odyssey, Chris Moore and Jade Anaiis Hillery tear up the dance floor with fantastic renditions of classic disco tracks as DJs Monty and Candy, respectively. Ella Drake and Kayla Dressman round out the ensemble of young disco dancers at 2001 Odyssey. The musical direction by Leah Schultz is nice and tight, and the choreography by Michael Hodges is high-flying and athletic.

As stated in the intro, however, this production is not perfect. The cast is pretty small for a show with a semi-large scale, and the actors who have to play multiple roles struggle to differentiate their parts. Their Brooklyn accents weren’t quite conquered over, which didn’t help much. Also, I wished they had a bit more fun with the scene changes because they were kind of awkward and a little choppy. Furthermore, the light-up dance floor is only partially visible, so it didn’t really have that punchy effect I was looking for. Finally, Justin Been’s sound design was surprisingly overamplified on the actors’ side; the band often struggled to be heard over them, which is usually the reversal of the same problem.

These sound like pretty monumental blunders that would ruin a show, especially one that has a mixed reputation as Saturday Night Fever. But with a cast this enthusiastic, as well as a creative team that was driven to accurately translate the look and tone of the original film, I don’t care. I admire Stray Dog Theatre for putting in the effort to read between the lines of this story, fully realizing that Saturday Night Fever is not an exaltation of disco culture, it’s an indictment of it. I think Stray Dog sharing that level of thoughtful substance and historical context with St. Louis is going to inspire a lot of theatre makers here to appreciate Saturday Night Fever on a deeper level; maybe even to the point we see another production in a few years time.

Photography by John Lamb

Poster designed by Justin Been

Million Dollar Quartet @ Stages St. Louis

Songs by Johnny Cash, Jerry Lee Lewis, Carl Perkins, and Elvis Presley

Book by Colin Escott and Floyd Mutrux

Conceived by Floyd Mutrux

Running September 8 - October 8, 2023 @ The Kirkwood Performing Arts Center

Published October 8, 2023

St. Louis’s summer musical theatre season started with the Muny’s Beautiful, a tribute to the earliest years of popular music through the lenses of four brilliant artists. Now, it’s ending with Stages St. Louis’ Million Dollar Quartet, a tribute to the earliest years of popular music through the lenses of four brilliant artists. A very interesting theme to bookend the season. But what makes Million Dollar Quartet different from Beautiful is instead of setting the story across several decades, the show all takes place on one day: December 4, 1956. The location: Sun Records in Memphis, Tennessee. The event: for the first and only time, Johnny Cash, Jerry Lee Lewis, Carl Perkins, and Elvis Presley – figures who would eventually become legends in rock, country, and gospel music – got together for an impromptu jam session by pure dumb luck.

The organizer of this amazing cosmic convergence was Sam Phillips, the founder of Sun Records and one of the first music producers in the world to record, sell, and distribute rock songs. It was with Phillips and Sun Records that Cash, Lewis, Perkins, and Presley all got their Big Break. Phillips is the story’s narrator, introducing us to the artists and explaining the context behind this event that he already knew would be a significant moment in rock music history.

So, how did this start? Phillips explains that after the King of Rock and Roll, Elvis Presley, exploded onto the scene, his contract was sold to RCA to advance his career. However, Elvis makes it clear that he is not satisfied with the way his new producers are treating him. RCA then drafts a deal that Elvis can work with Phillips again, but only if Sun Records folds into RCA. Elvis and Phillips decide to meet at Sun Records to negotiate the deal on the evening of December 4, 1956. On the same evening, Phillips scheduled a recording session to revitalize the stalled career of the Father of Rockabilly, Carl Perkins, after Elvis’s cover of “Blue Suede Shoes” vastly surpassed Perkins’s original. Phillips hires to accompany Perkins a young pianist named Jerry Lee Lewis, a “Great Ball of Fire” with toxic levels of swagger and unhinged bravado – quite a contrast to Perkins’s carefully cultivated “good ol’ boy” image. In a surprise visit, one of the kings of country and gospel, Johnny Cash, stops by to inform Phillips that he will not be renewing his contract with Sun Records. Once Elvis and his girlfriend Dyanne finally arrive, everyone decides to jam out together as contracts are negotiated, backstories and motives are revealed, and a “Whole Lotta Shakin’” goes on – all while Phillips records the whole thing in a brilliant act of foresight.

Stages St. Louis’ Million Dollar Quartet is a show that fires on all cylinders, from the first notes of “Blue Suede Shoes” all the way down to the coda, transforming the Kirkwood Performing Arts Center into a full-throttle, blissed-out party brimming with unbelievable talent courtesy of director and choreographer Keith Andrews. Jeff Cummings as Sam Phillips radiates the warmth of a man fully realizing the potential of a generation, as well as the tough love required to deal with them. Edward La Cardo firmly grasps Elvis’s easygoing tone of speaking and his trademark swoon-inducing singing voice and dance moves. Shelby Ringdahl as Dyanne joins in on the fun as the group’s chanteuse, with a solid voice and a fantastic stage presence. Scott Moreau as Johnny Cash is as smooth as butter melting down your throat, shudders included; Cash’s songs – “Folsom Prison Blues,” “Sixteen Tons,” and “Ghost Riders in the Sky” – are vocal wonders to behold as performed by Moreau. Brady Wease is having the time of his life as Jerry Lee Lewis, exuberating uncontrollable goblin energy, moving like a bat out of hell, and pounding those piano keys like a madman. Jeremy Sevelovitz as Carl Perkins admirably conveys easy Southern charm conflicting against deep resentments and tempered rage. There’s also excellent work from the session musicians: Chuck Zayas on the bass as Perkins’s older brother Jay, and musical director David Sonneborn on the drums as W.S. “Fluke” Holland.

The production values are also top-notch: scenic designer Adam Koch has beautifully crafted a fully functional recording studio on stage; Brad Musgrove’s costumes perfectly capture the styles of the artists and of the period in general; Sean M. Savoie’s lights razzle and dazzle the eyes, contributing to the classic rock concert atmosphere; and the sound by Beef Gratz gives the music the oomph and pizazz that it deserves – it practically punches the ears with how rockin’ it is.

Stages St. Louis’ Million Dollar Quartet is a marvelous celebration of the history of popular music through a perspective that I personally don’t think enough people pay attention to. It’s an exuberant, colorful, and vibrant production. Everything about this show is musical theatre heaven – literally, it will leave you in ecstasy and speaking in tongues. It’s transcendent. Or maybe that’s the gospel music talking, I don’t know. Maybe I’m alone on that noise.

Photography by Phillip Hamer

Ragtime @ Union Avenue Opera

Music by Stephen Flaherty

Lyrics by Lynn Ahrens

Book by Terrence McNally

Based on the novel by E.L. Doctorow

Ran August 18 - 26, 2023 @ Union Avenue Christian Church

Published September 23, 2023

Ragtime is one of those musicals where every time it’s produced, it truly feels like an event with weight and gravitas. The last professional production of Ragtime in St. Louis was Stray Dog Theatre’s mounting in 2017, which won the St. Louis Theatre Circle Award for Outstanding Production of a Musical. However, theirs was a more scaled-down production with lighter orchestrations and a cast that can only be as big as Tower Grove Abbey will allow them. So, when Union Avenue Opera announced they would be producing it with the full orchestration and a huge cast, everyone shat themselves with anticipation. But as great as the production turned out to be, I can’t help but feel that trying to produce Ragtime in a way that is faithful to its fullest demands, while also having the specs of a company like Union Avenue Opera, was a bit too tall a task.

Ragtime tells the intersecting stories of three distinct communities in New York City during the early 1900s: the affluent White residents of New Rochelle, the Black bohemians of Harlem, and the struggling Jewish immigrants of the Lower East Side. In New Rochelle, we are introduced to a well-to-do family who made their fortune selling “fireworks, bunting, and other accouterments of patriotism.” The plot is set into motion when the family’s pampered Mother welcomes into her home a young Black washwoman named Sarah along with her newborn son, the illegitimate child of Harlem ragtime pianist Coalhouse Walker, Jr. Upon hearing of the birth of his son, Coalhouse purchases a brand new Ford Model-T, driving all the way to New Rochelle to reconnect with Sarah. When his car is subsequently stopped and vandalized by New Rochelle’s vehemently racist fire department, much conflict, turmoil, tragedy, and upheaval ensue. Figuring into this plot is Tateh, a Jewish immigrant trying to scratch out a life as a single parent to his Little Girl, working as a street artist creating still-life silhouettes and “moving pictures.” Tateh’s work takes aim at America’s burgeoning celebrity culture, embodied by Booker T. Washington, Harry Houdini, J.P. Morgan, Henry Ford, Emma Goldman, and Evelyn Nesbitt, all of them serving as jumping-off points for the main characters to explore what it truly means to pursue the American Dream.

Ragtime is an epic musical with a sweeping scope and an extremely challenging score that requires serious talent in order to pull off. The music is simply intoxicating, I could practically swim in how good it is; the 18-piece Union Avenue Orchestra under musical director Scott Schoonover gives Stephen Flaherty’s propulsive music its full due. Director Shaun Patrick Tubbs assembles a cast of 40 actors that unite as an incredible chorus, voices filling the sanctuary of the Union Avenue Christian Church. The characterizations are magnificent, led by Nyghél J. Byrd and Jazmine Olwalia as Coalhouse and Sarah, both of them sharing intelligent, dignified, elegant performances; they are the heart and soul of Ragtime, after all. The New Rochelle family are fully realized portrayals of educated, liberal-minded, socially active White people who are not perfect; they have a longing and determination to protect people of color and immigrants, but they have a long way to go before their implicit biases fully go away. The family is played with nuance and care by Debby Lennon as the Mother, Eric J. McConnell as the Father, Gavin Nobbe as their Little Boy Edgar, Chuck Lavazzi as Edgar’s Grandfather, and James Stevens as Mother’s Younger Brother. Marc Schapman as Tateh effectively conveys the strength and resilience over the struggles of being a starving artist on the Lower East Side, while also being a warm, comforting presence to his Little Girl, played here by Nora Sprowls.

The rest of the cast is splendid, especially in the choral numbers as I mentioned earlier, but I do have to say there may be too many of them on that stage. There are times when the staging by Shaun Patrick Tubbs and choreography by Leah Tubbs is a bit stiff from just how cramped together the actors are – the iconic prologue is the one that especially comes to mind. There are other moments that use the venue to expand the show into the audience, which is really clever – I just wanted to see them do it more often. Part of the staging troubles comes from Patrick Huber’s set consisting of an Art Deco bridge that serves as an upper level, along with some scaffolds housing tables, chairs, and Coalhouse’s car. It’s an already impressive set, but I think it should’ve been sprawled out further into the theater for a less compact feel.

Further, what makes the score so challenging is that a good chunk of it is authentic ragtime music, complete with blasting brass and syncopated rhythms, which is hard for an actor to sing, let alone unamplified in an opera house. Some of the voices in the cast were not large enough to reach the whole theater, and others flubbed a couple of times trying to keep up with the articulation and volume demands. Philip Touchette’s supertitles made it easier to understand the lyrics, but this combined with the staging made it clear to me that Ragtime was too big for Union Avenue Opera’s britches.

Those really are the only faults of this production, since everything else is so good: the performances, the orchestra, the set, the precise lighting by Patrick Huber, the excellent period costumes by Teresa Doggett, and Taylor Abs’s meticulously detailed props. Union Avenue Opera’s Ragtime was a damned impressive feat; I admire this company for taking on such a gigantic show with the resources they have and producing it as faithfully to its demands as possible. More than anything, this proves that any chance to see Ragtime is a good chance indeed.

Photography by Dan Donovan