Content warning: brief mentions of r*pe and drug addiction in paragraph 2

All the talk of protests on campus this past week has reminded me of my favorite disaster of a musical: Jagged Little Pill. A jukebox musical with music from the 1995 Alanis Morisette album of the same name, the plot is a convoluted mix of various social issues through the frame of a cliche picture-perfect yet actually dysfunctional suburban family–a real Next to Normal situation. 

Each member of the family has a specific, stereotypical struggle. The mom Mary Jane (whose name was annoyingly chosen just to fit in Morisette’s song “Mary Jane”) is struggling with addiction to painkillers but trying to act like everything is normal, the dad is addicted to pornography (which is mentioned twice but not relevant to any part of the plot), their son who was admitted early into Harvard but is struggling under crippling pressure, and their adopted daughter Frankie who doesn’t feel like she is accepted by her family. As the show progresses, the main plot reveals itself: Frankie’s friend is r*ped at a party, which causes Mary Jane to reconcile with her past trauma involving r*pe. There’s a protest in the end directed at no one in particular. On top of all this, there are subplots involving sexual orientation and gender identity. It seems like Diablo Cody (who wrote the book for the show; also known for the movies Juno and Jennifer’s Body which makes a lot of sense if you’re familiar with either) tried to cram every possible relatable issue into a show and connect it with Alanis Morisette songs. The script isn’t terribly written, but it transitions awkwardly between scenes, and paired with ill-fitting hip hop choreography and a set made of clunky screen animations, it leaves much to be desired–especially when the source material is so highly acclaimed.

One good thing about the show is the cast album. It won the Grammy award for Best Musical Theater Album, and after listening to Lauren Patten’s rendition of “You Oughta Know,” it’s clear why.

Of course, when a piece of media includes so many controversial topics, it is bound to receive plenty of criticism. The character Jo (portrayed by Lauren Patten) originally started out as a nonbinary character in the original production at American Repertory Theater. However, when the show transferred to Broadway, the character was discretely changed to cisgender by the removal of a few lines, and Jo’s storyline became muddled. This caused people across social media platforms (I specifically remember seeing a Tik Tok about it) to accuse the show of nonbinary erasure. The actress Patten herself is cisgender and identifies as a woman, so many fans of the show assumed that the character was changed to accommodate her in the role. By attempting to not get “canceled” for having a cisgender actress play a nonbinary role, the creative team essentially just changed the character to be cisgender instead of hiring a nonbinary performer… an apathetic choice for a show that is dealing with so many sensitive topics. The choice really a lack of care for the issues in the show and an underlying concern for public approval.

Below is the statement released in response to the controversy if anyone is interested.

Later in its short Broadway run, Nora Schell (a nonbinary actor in the show) came forward about how the production team told her to put off critical surgery for the sake of the show. This compounded with the previous controversy and the show winning 2 Tony awards resulted in a protest in front of the Broadhurst theater on October 21st, 2021. The show closed its doomed Broadway run later that year on December 17.

In summary, this show is a distasteful disappointment to the masterpiece that is Alanis Morisette’s Jagged Little Pill album. Just go listen to the source material, that would be a much better use of your time than the cast recording. I’ll cover a good show next week, I promise.

I’m sitting in the blue lounge in Simmons right now and my friend Shreya (I was asked to put her name in here I promise) is playing “Come to Your Senses” from the movie so I feel obligated to talk about Tick, Tick… Boom! despite not knowing too much about it. I have seen the movie twice though, so I consider myself to be adequately qualified to write this.

The plot and music are semi-autobiographical as they were written by Jonathan Larson about his life and fears while writing the musical Superbia, which was a bit of a failure. Larson, who sadly passed away a day before the opening night of Rent, wrote the musical Rent based on Puccini’s opera La bohème and was posthumously recognized with many awards for his contributions to theater. Tick, Tick… Boom! was his second musical theatre venture, following Superbia which is featured throughout the show. The title Tick, Tick… Boom! is onomatopoeia for the sound of a timer counting down and a bomb exploding, which mirrors how Larson felt in his life as he approached his thirtieth birthday and hadn’t written a big, successful musical yet.

This brings us to the first song in the show: “30/90,” all about Larson turning 30 in 1990. Personally one of my favorites and a great first song to listen to if you haven’t seen the movie yet, this energetic expression of birthday anxiety is surprisingly fun to sing along or dance to. While it’s a shame Larson had an identity crisis at this point in his life, at least he wrote an amazing opening number from it.

At the beginning of the show, Larson’s character doesn’t understand why his friend Michael who also used to want a career in theater, took an advertising job just to move into a fancier apartment (described in the song “No More”). Later however, Michael reveals that he is HIV-positive and that was the impetus for him to try and live his life during however much time he has left (“Real Life”). Michael acts as a foil to Larson, in that Larson continues to try something without much success despite feeling anxiety about the passage of time, while Michael actually does something about it. Michael’s revelation puts Larson’s petty relationship issues into perspective, too. The song “Come to Your Senses” (which is framed as a Superbia song sung by an actress at a workshop production) highlights Larson’s disconnection from the ones he loves in pursuit of success. In the end, Larson ended up writing Rent about the AIDS crisis due to how closely it impacted the people he loved.

Of course, everyone knows “Green Green Dress” and “Boho Days” from Tik Tok, but one of my favorite numbers in the movie is “Sunday.” The song is inspired by “Sunday in the Park with George,” except this version takes place at the diner where Larson works. There are so many cameos from legendary people in the industry, including Lin Manuel Miranda, Renee Elise Goldsberry, and Philippa Soo from Hamilton, Andre de Shields (Hadestown), Bebe Neuwirth (Chicago), Beth Malone (Fun Home), Chita Rivera (West Side Story), Bernadette Peters (Sunday in the Park with George), Adam Pascal, Daphne Rubin-Vega, and Wilson Jermain Heredia from the original cast of Rent, and more!

The 1964 musical Funny Girl is a hot topic right now as Lea Michele has joined the revival cast, living out her Glee character’s dream of performing as Fanny Brice. That’s why this week we’ll be taking a look at Funny Girl and the drama surrounding the recent casting choices.

Before I decided to write about the show, I had only ever heard a few songs from it (namely “Don’t Rain On My Parade,” “My Man,” and “Funny Girl” because of Glee) and attempted to watch a pro-shot of it but could not make it through the whole thing. The plot is pretty bland; it’s an account of the early 1900s actress and comedian Fanny Brice. The plot revolves around her rise to stardom and her relationship with Nick Arnstein, neither of which are too fascinating in my opinion. The most relatable and redeeming aspect of the show (besides the beautiful music) is Brice’s rise to fame despite her not fitting in with the beauty standards of the time. It really takes an incredible leading lady with a strong voice and comedic timing to bring the show to life.

As for the music… it’s incredible. Most of the songs have that early 1900s Christmas music-esque vibe, and mixed with incredible vocals from Barbra Streisand on the original Broadway cast recording, the soundtrack truly stands out. The lyrics rhyme in the most impressively satisfying ways, such as “Is a nose with deviation such a crime against the nation?” from “If A Girl Isn’t Pretty.” The best songs from the cast recording are the three aforementioned songs that were covered on Glee, which brings us to the Lea Michele drama.

Lea Michele is best known for playing the role of Rachel Berry on Glee. Rachel Berry is a young girl in the glee club who dreams to be just like Barbra Streisand. Even in the TV show, there is a revival of Funny Girl in which Berry lands the lead role, and Michele herself expressed interest in playing Fanny Brice someday on various occasions. After the Funny Girl revival opened to bad reviews, the artistic team decided to do something drastic and cast Lea Michele, despite the many allegations about Michele’s racially-motivated and toxic behavior on the set of Glee. After Michele tweeted about her support of the Black Lives Matter movement, fellow cast member Samantha Marie Ware responded by claiming that Michele made her time on Glee a “living hell” and used “traumatic microaggressions” against her. In co-star Naya Rivera’s autobiography, she wrote about Michele’s competitiveness and critical nature that prevented them from getting along. Even yesterday, co-star Chris Colfer said on a podcast that he would not go see Lea Michele in Funny Girl because he can be “triggered at home,” implying that seeing Lea Michele in a lead role would “trigger” him. All of these comments blur the lines between Rachel Berry as a character and Lea Michele’s reality, as Rachel Berry’s whole personality was being a self-centered diva who would do anything to be a star. It all begs the question, did Lea Michele make Rachel Berry or did Rachel Berry make Lea Michele? There’s also that whole rumor that Lea Michele can’t read, which in my opinion is a ridiculous yet somehow effective way to diminish the reputation of a problematic celebrity. While the jury is still out on whether or not she can read, Lea Michele can definitely sing, so hopefully her behind-the-scenes behavior has changed since her time on Glee.

Chess (or as I like to call it, Mamma Mia’s long lost older sibling) is an anomaly of musical theatre. The plot of Chess follows a rivalry between an American chess grandmaster and a Russian chess grandmaster as they become political pawns amidst the tension of the Cold War. Written as a concept album with incredible music by Benny Andersson and Björn Ulvaeus of ABBA, but mediocre lyrics by Tim Rice, all attempts to connect the songs with a stage-worthy plot have crashed and burned. This is surprising since songs from the original 1984 concept album–such as “I Know Him So Well” (linked below)–topped European charts. In this edition of Sound Check, we’ll take a look at the good, the bad, and the political of Chess.

The Good

Of course, the music by the two dudes from ABBA is outstanding. The beat of “One Night In Bangkok” is dance-inducing, even though the lyrics are… questionable, and the swelling instrumentals of “Someone Else’s Story” (added for the 1988 Broadway production) make you want to stand up and pretend you’re performing for a sold-out opera house. While all versions of the plot have many holes (especially the romance aspects), there’s clearly something about the show that works enough to warrant continued revivals.

The Bad

Tim Rice’s lyrics are a roller coaster of offenses. “One Night In Bangkok,” which describes the setting of the Act II chess tournament, is full of xenophobic remarks from both the American and the Russian. In “Quartet (A Model of Decorum and Tranquility),” the Russian derogatorily accuses the American of being gay, which comes completely out of the blue and is never relevant again. Not to mention, Florence (the main love interest) faces constant discrimination from the American due to her gender, and while the original Broadway production included the song “How Many Women” in which Florence briefly stands up to the American, the American is supposed to be the hero in the Broadway version despite being an avid misogynist. This also doesn’t make sense considering Florence and the American are in a relationship throughout Act I and the American made her his second at a time when it was rare for women to be involved in chess. In terms of the forced romance plots, the original concept album and British version do not include the song “Someone Else’s Story” to introduce Florence’s feelings of dissatisfaction in her relationship with the American, so Florence running away with the Russian does not make any sense. The addition of the song in the Broadway/American version was smart, but in the 2012 concert version, the song is given to the Russian’s wife, which again does not make any sense. Despite a brief sub-plot in the Broadway version with Florence meeting a man who deceitfully claims to be her long lost father, the women are only in the show to serve as love interests, and it is very clear that Tim Rice does not know how to write a plot or lyrics that allow women to be anything other than that.

Politics

For a show that allegorically represents the Cold War, it sure tries to be apolitical. The only explicit stance is found in “Nobody’s Side,” a song in which Florence sings “Everybody’s playing the game / But nobody’s rules are the same / Nobody’s on nobody’s side.” However, the creative team of the show did pick sides when producing the Broadway version. In the original West End/British production, the Russian won both the Act I and Act II tournaments, while the Broadway/American adaption, the story is changed so that there is only one tournament and the American wins. If you’re going to make a show about politics, at least have something clear to say about it.