It’s back – and it’s as brassy as ever.
The revival of Miss Saigon, now at the Broadway Theater, centers on prostitution and the exploitation of women to underscore its thematic concerns. War is hell — and women are often the eternal victims of political fallout.
It’s been more than 16 years since Cameron Mackintosh’s Miss Saigon was in New York — and audiences who loved the operatic elements will be enticed anew by this production. And yes, its famed helicopter is a high point.
The musical opens in Saigon in 1975, in the last days of the Vietnam War.
Life is cheap. The American GIs treat women like dirt, as does the half-French, half-Vietnamese Engineer (an excellent Jon Jon Briones), who owns the nightclub patronized by the U.S. Army. Sleazy and violent, the Engineer caters to anything the young soldiers desire.
Yet amid turmoil, Chris (Alistair Brammer) and Kim (Eva Noblezada) fall passionately in love. Their on-stage chemistry is explosive, an apt backdrop to underscore the insanity that engulfs them. That includes the ominous Thuy (Devin Ilaw), Kim’s cousin, who comes to Saigon to claim her.
Despite the best-laid plans, Chris is forced
to abandon Kim — setting in motion an onslaught of guilt, terror and
violence that will haunt them both.
This incarnation boasts a solid cast; they fully capture the heartbreak and horror of those caught in the crosshairs of war.
Briones, who starred in the recent London revival, has nailed the oily, conniving hustler, notably in his big number “The American Dream,” while Noblezada’s debut is impressive. Bob Avian’s musical staging is raw and engaging, and the Boubil/Schonberg score remains as entertaining as ever. —Fern Siegel
Paramour at the Lyric Theater is a departure for Cirque du Soleil: The acrobatic brilliance remains, but it’s coupled with the Broadway musical genre, set in Hollywood’s golden age.
The story is a love triangle — Hollywood director A.J. (Jeremy Kushnier) plucks Indigo (Ruby Lewis) from obscurity to turn her into a star. Her composer partner beau Joey (Ryan Vona), isn’t amused.
In between the predictable plot lines, the $25 million production offers inventive stage acts. At a speakeasy, waiters perform nifty turns. There’s always some Cirque-style business mixed with various scenes, like the stunning high-wire act from the Atherton twins. Most of the visual elements, coupled with an ample use of video projects, are dazzling.
Director-conceiver Philippe Decoufle keeps the action flowing, and every now and then, the stage performances and the romance connect. One of the best moments is the “Love Triangle,” where a trio of dancers recreate the emotional tug-of-war in mid-air. There’s even a comic-book-style finale chase scene that’s terrific to watch — and a bit reminiscent of Spider-Man: Turn Off The Dark, which also played the Lyric.
The twist, and the downside, is the story itself, which is banal. That doesn’t mean the show isn’t entertaining — or the leads don’t deliver. Just that as Broadway musicals go, it’s more Las Vegas than Great White Way.
It’s 1959 Eisenhower America, a fancy prep school in New England. The headmaster is smug, the kids range between privileged and awkward — and authority rules.
Then a small miracle happens.
English teacher Mr. Keating (a wonderful Jason Sudelkis) arrives, proof that words elevate and ideas can change the world. He reminds the boys to “gather ye rose-buds while ye may,” captivating them with the power and passion of poetry.
And suddenly, the spark ignites.
Dead Poets Society, now off-Broadway at CSC,
is a beautifully rendered production, deftly directed with elegance
— and without sentimentality — by John Doyle. The boys come alive —
and despite their adolescent angst — discover beauty and depth.
Which sounds ideal — if their world wasn’t run by pompous, authoritarian figures. Culture and sensibility are anathema to them. And a clash is inevitable.
Keating pushes the boys to open their minds
and hearts in an era when conformity and anti-intellectualism rule.
Oscar winner Tom Schulman adapted his screenplay, and it has added
resonance in such an intimate setting. We feel the boys’ longings,
much as we absorb the larger ethos: That the humanities can enhance
your life is a valuable message; one that seems critically
Doyle keeps his production lean, using books for desks and getting excellent performances from a strong ensemble cast that doesn’t miss a beat: Zane Pais, Thomas Mann, Cody Kostro, William Hochman, Yaron Lotan, Bubba Weiler, David Garrison, Stephen Barker Turner and Francesca Carpanini.
In Trump-era America, the play is a timely reminder of how dangerous rigidity and insensitivity can be. But Dead Poets Society is also a battle cry, encouraging us to embrace the words of Tennyson: “To strive, to seek, to find, and not to yield.”