New Angles on the American Musical From "Copperfield!" "The Curious Case of Benjamin Button" "The Heart" "I Became We"

Wither the American musical?  I know that sounds pretentious but it also seems to be the question everyone is now asking. Even the current issue of The New Yorker magazine has jumped into the debate with its piece “Why the American Musical Refuses to Die” (click here to read what they say). Part of the hang wringing and head scratching has been prompted by the rising cost of putting on these shows (the average cost of a Broadway musical was under $1 million in 1976 but has now risen to around $15 million) and part is due to the artistic drive to do something new.  

Some promising ideas about what to do may be coming from a bunch of shows I recently saw that, in their own ways, are wrestling with those questions and trying to offer answers that will both pull in audiences (hopefully some of them under 60) and push the art form forward (maybe even doing so less expensively). 

Two of them—Copperfield! and The Curious Case of Benjamin Button—seem to be hedging their bets: basing their books on proven stories and crafting their scores around familiar genres but they’re also borrowing a page from Paul Sills’ storybook-style of theatermaking that favors stripped-down staging and actors breaking the fourth wall to narrate the action; and another page is from director John Doyle’s even more contemporary—and cheaper to produce—technique of having actors double as a show’s musicians.  One of those shows worked for me and one less so.

Charles Dickens may be my all-time favorite author and “David Copperfield,”  the semi-autobiographical coming-of-age novel that he published in 1850 is my favorite of his many works. So I was primed to see this new musical version that is now playing at The Duke on 42nd Street.  But its creator Jeffrey Scharf, who wrote the show’s book, music and lyrics, may have bitten off more than he can chew. Scharf hasn’t created a bad show but rather a generic one that seems like it might have drawn a B- if it had been a BMI Workshop assignment to musicalize a well-known property.

Part of what has always made Dickens so special is his ability to combine his deep interest in the social issues of his day (income inequality, a corrupt legal system, child abuse) and his delight in making people laugh, mainly through the shenanigans of the colorful characters he created. Scharf’s book hits all the major points in the novel and crams in all the characters but it isn’t clear why he’s telling us this story now. That might be O.K. if his show was simply amusing in its own right but, alas, it isn’t. And the score is so similarly undistinguished that it might have been used for any show from 1956 to 1996. 

None of this has stopped Copperfield!’s backers from putting together a fine-looking production with a multi-level set and period-appropriate costumes. Director Gabriel Barre keeps the action moving even if the acting ability of the 13-member ensemble—who, to be fair, are playing multiple characters—varies (although Bobby Conte provides a solid anchor in the title role) but they all get big thumbs up for how well they all play multiple instruments. 

The actor-musicians in The Public Theater production of The Curious Case of Benjamin Button struck me as equally impressive music makers and, as a whole, more accomplished actors. But that may be because the show they’re in is simply a better one. 

It’s based on F. Scott Fitzgerald’s 1922 short story (and the 2008 Brad Pitt movie) about a man who, born as a 70-year-old, ages in reverse, growing younger each year until he declines into the oblivion of infancy. But Jethro Compton, who not only wrote the book and lyrics but directed the show and designed its minimal but flexible set, has taken Fitzgerald’s basic idea and created a completely different story, turning it into a meaningful post-pandemic meditation on the illusions of time and the sustaining power of love that wowed theatergoers in London where it won three Olivier Awards, including Best New Musical of 2025 (click here to read more about the origins of the show).

An American cast has replaced the British one that ran on the West End and it would be hard to find a better Benjamin than Andrew Durand, who not only convincingly reverse ages without the help of makeup or significant costume changes but brings a sweet melancholy to the role. Compton’s version moves the story from pre-Civil War Baltimore to a small Cornish fishing village in England beginning around the time of the first World War and centers Benjamin’s journey around his love for a woman named Elowen, beautifully played by Kelsee Kimmel. 

Along the way Benjamin engages with a cast of eccentric characters that might do Dickens proud. Some accept him, some, including his parents, see him as a freak (tolerance for people who are different is a major subtheme) but regardless Benjamin is constantly aware that for him time is winding down. 

This could be depressing except that Compton has partnered with the composer Darren Clark, who wrote a score teeming with the defiantly joyous sounds of Celtic music that have animated sea shanties and folk ditties for centuries. It’s hard to keep your own toes from tapping to that music. And as I watched this lovely show, it was hard for me to keep from smiling, even if at times ruefully as it reminded me of my own ticking clock.

The other two shows I saw—I Became We and The Heart—have found ways to stretch the definition of a musical even further. An onstage Steinway piano was the sole instrument in I Became We, a wholly original show that opened this past week at the Atlantic Theater’s Linda Gross Theater with a book and lyrics by the playwright Mona Pirnot and music and lyrics by the composer Jack D. Coen (click here to listen to an interview with them). 

Pirnot subscribes to the autofiction style of storytelling that weaves together real-life autobiographical experiences (some really mundane) with fictional flourishes to create a thematic narrative. Her previous works have dealt with the trauma of coping with a severely ill relative and the challenges of working as a contemporary artist. This time out the theme is Pirnot’s mid-life crisis over whether or not to have a baby. But what sets this first-person story apart is that it’s told by a 16-member choir of classically trained singers, all dressed in formal attire, standing on risers with music in hand and singing the hell out of the score.

The songs Pirnot and Coen, who also conducts the choir, have composed range from the intentionally funny opening number that begins “I saw a segment on ‘Jimmy Kimmel Live!’ called, ‘What Do You Know About the Female Body?’” to gorgeous meditative arias. The singers who performed in solos, duets, quartets and as a group were all fantastic and I was happy to see each given complete bios in the Playbill. Director Sarah Benson’s main contribution may have been the decision to project the lyrics on a screen positioned above the choir, which I greatly appreciated because it meant that none of the often very witty lyrics are missed.

However, while I am a fan of this clever new approach to a musical, I have to admit that I found the subject of one woman’s decision to have a baby to be a touch too solipsistic. But the entire song cycle runs a tidy 70 minutes, most critics have been charmed by it and I’m happy to join in the applause for what turned out to be a truly entertaining chamber musical in every sense of the word.

Still, the show that really knocked me out was The Heart, an exhilarating new musical that just opened at the Roundabout Theater's Laura Pels Theatre. It's centered around the unlikely subject of a transplanted heart with a book by Kait Kerrigan and a techno music score by the husband-and-wife team of Anne and Ian Eisendrath that provides a steady and propulsive beat that aptly mimics those of the heart. 

The story, based on a French novel, begins with the fatal car accident of a 19-year-old surfer and then follows the journey of his still healthy heart through vignettes that involve his divorced parents who have to make the agonizing decision to donate their son’s heart, the transplant coordinators who have only a limited time to find the right recipient for it, the ailing 50-year-old woman who had given up hope of getting a heart in time to save her life and the members of the medical team that performs the procedure.

That’s a lot to pack into 90-minutes and yet the songs (both Kerrigan and the Eisendraths are credited with the lyrics) are so skillful, Christopher Ashley’s direction is so sharp and the cast led by Joaquina Kalukango as the anguished mom, Heidi Blickenstaff as the anxious recipient and Drew Gehling as the cocky surgeon are all so specific in their acting choices that each character comes vividly to life. 

The entire creative team is equally in sync. Mandy Moore’s choreography is minimal but still manages to convey the urgency of the situation. Similarly, Lucy Mackinnon’s video projections are mainly expressionistic but their images also covey the pulsating energy of the endeavor. 

But it was mainly the music that most excited me. Hip-hop has been sneaking into more shows in the wake of Hamilton and pop-rock keeps popping up in jukebox musicals but to have a show so animated by electronic dance music—while still making room for more traditional genres when needed—is a reminder that the musical cannot only survive but thrive as a contemporary art form.

Some critics have complained that The Heart is little more than a fancy PSA to get people to sign up as organ donors. I suppose there is some truth in that. I learned a lot of facts about the whole organ donation process. But I was also moved to tears by the show (I laughed some too; it's a bighearted show). And so how can I not cheer a show that has found such a fresh way to appeal to both my head and, yes, my heart.

 

 

 

Social Media Mania is the Main Social Issue in the Plays "Anon," "Degenerates" and "Fish"

One of the theatrical genres I most admire is the state of the nation play that wrestles with contemporary political and social issues. The Brits have a long tradition of this dating back to Shakespeare and running straight through such modern-day works as David Hare’s Racing Demon, Lucy Prebble’s Enron and James Graham’s Ink, which have taken on the Church of England’s struggle to adjust to a changing world, the hubris of corporate greed and the destructive rise of click-driven media. But in recent years, more American playwrights have begun to explore how and why our country has gotten into the fractious mess in which we now find ourselves. Here are three new shows that share a belief that social media has played a major role in getting us there: 

 ANON by Anne Washburn @ MCC Theater

The Issues: Conspiracy Paranoia and Social Media Mania

The Story: A conservative TikToker tumbles down the rabbit hole of extremist QAnon-style conspiracy theories, alienating her family and posing a challenge to the gay couple who recently moved in across the street and put up a gay flag on their home.

The Takeaway: The overt allusions to Shakespeare’s King Lear that are woven into this drama suggest that Washburn intends her play to be a similar kind of grand tragedy. But she seems to have worked harder at drawing those connections than she has at developing her characters or her narrative. Perhaps to compensate, she and director Anne Kauffman lean heavily into the humor as tensions escalate between the neighbors but that undercuts what might have been a powerful message. So what we get is a story that only makes occasional sense and that instead of making a clear statement just peters out. When I saw the play it took a while for the audience to realize that the show was over despite the fact that a character's final words were “the end.”  

And yet, there are some terrific performances, led by the increasingly—and deservedly—ubiquitous Crystal Finn as the TikToker. Meanwhile, Jared Mezzochi, perhaps the best video projection designer working today, has created some nifty visuals. But perhaps the best storytelling is done by the set by the design group dots; it’s a simple dining room table and chairs that double as the home of both Finn’s TikToker and her politically opposite but also increasingly paranoid gay neighbors, a subtle suggestion that red, blue or in between we’re all susceptible to online madness.

DEGENERATES by Else Went @ Playwrights Horizons 

The Issues: Male Loneliness and Social Media Mania

The Story: Three lonely young men— a would-be macho bully boy who lives at home with his mom, a very fem teen who supports himself with sex work on an Only Fans-like website and a guy so despairing of making a connection with anyone that he thinks suicide may be the only solution—turn to an online chat group to share their hostile feelings toward women who they blame for turning them into incels or involuntarily celibates, and to fend off the uncomfortable questions they have about their own sexuality.

The Takeaway: Went is terrific at crafting dialog that captures the way young people talk even though some of those speeches go on far longer than need be. But the actors that she and her director wife Emma Rose Went have found are excellent at portraying the anger, angst and dismay that seem to be spreading among so many young people today. Christopher Dylan White is particularly affecting as the camboy who's trying to determine if they are trans. 

Now there’s no way around it, this show is a tough watch. The crude and lewd language used to talk about women may offend some people and the sex scenes are the most brutal and graphic I’ve ever seen on a stage. But this is also an important show because it pushes aside the usual stereotypes and instead tries to understand the real pain that can come when a group of people begin to believe that they are ignored by the mainstream. I think this play could be a serious contender for the Pulitzer Prize.

FISH by Melis Aker @ the WP Theater 

The Issues: Catfishing, Racial Stereotyping and Social Media Mania

The Story: When a teen turns to the internet to find the brother that she and her Turkish immigrant mother fear has been radicalized online she becomes involved in a bizarro cat-and-mouse relationship with some men who purport to be members of ISIS. 

The Takeaway: What begins as a prank when the girl’s bestie dares her to reach out to the terrorists becomes increasingly comic and improbable. And a couple of the supporting characters, particularly the brother’s ex-girlfriend and a hunky swimming instructor are underdeveloped, although director Tatiana Pandiani has cleverly staged scenes in the swimming pool that are laugh-out-loud funny. 

But what truly salvages it all is the winning performance by Yasmin Ranz-Lind, who is almost convincing as a teen and who radiates a sweet goofiness that calls to mind a young Gilda Radner. And it’s also great to see the mom portrayed as a full person who worries about her kids but who also indulges in some sexual fantasies of her own. This is basically a coming-of-age comedy but tucked inside is a cautionary tale about the dangers that lurk on the web. 

A Sampling of My Fall Preview Wish List

The fall theater season has already begun and it’s more jam-packed than it has been in years. No matter what kind of show you like, there is bound to be something that you'll want to see. But no matter how avid a theatergoer you are, there’s no way to see all of it. So this isn’t a full fall preview. Instead, it’s a sampling of shows that—with fingers crossed that they'll live up to my expectations—I'm really looking forward to seeing over the next couple of months.

A BROADWAY PLAY: Other Desert Cities, opening Oct. 18 at the Hudson Theatre: Jon Robin Baitz’s sensational drama is about a wealthy, right-wing couple whose adult daughter returns home with a book she’s written that will expose long-buried family secrets. It was one of my favorite plays of the year when I saw the original off-Broadway production in 2010 and then again when I got to see the Broadway production the next year.  And I wasn’t the only one knocked out by it; the play was a finalist for the Pulitzer Prize for Drama. So I would have wanted to see this revival even if it didn’t have the killer cast of Lily Rabe as the daughter, Ed Harris as the father, Julia Louis-Dreyfus, making her Broadway debut as the mother, and Allison Janney, playing the tart-tongued alcoholic aunt, a role that won Judith Light her second Tony Award.  

But you might also want to check out Downstate, Bruce Norris’ drama about the challenging question of what to do with convicted sex offenders once they’ve served their sentences. 

 

A BROADWAY MUSICAL: Wanted, opening Nov. 8 at the James Earl Jones Theatre: Liisi LaFontaine and Solea Pfeiffer star in this wholly original musical that tells the tale of the Clarke sisters, African-American twins who were light enough to pass for white and bold enough to become outlaws in 1893 Texas. Angelica Chéri, a protégée of the award-winning playwright Lynn Nottage, wrote the book and lyrics based on stories that her own family has passed down over the past century and a half. And her collaborator Ross Baum has written a score filled with bangers and soulful ballads that might feel right at home on Spotify's Top Tracks list.

But you might also want to check out Galileo, Raul Esparza’s return to Broadway for the first time in 14 years in a rock musical about the 17th century scientist whose discoveries brought him into conflict with the Catholic Church.

 

AN OFF-BROADWAY PLAY: The Verge, opening Nov. 5 at the Public Theater: If Eugene O’Neill is the father of modern American drama, then Susan Glaspell is its mother. A co-founder of the Provincetown Players who helped to nurture O’Neill’s early career and a pioneering feminist, Glaspell was also the second woman to ever win a Pulitzer Prize for Drama. But she doesn’t get done much anymore, not even by companies that pride themselves on reviving works by neglected playwrights. This drama about a woman whose desire to be more than just a wife and mother drives her insane was Glaspell’s big breakout but it hasn’t had a major New York production since its debut in 1921. So it’s beyond exciting for me that the Fiasco Theater Company is staging this revival at the Public Theater, starring Miriam Silverman, a recent Tony winner for her breakout performance in the 2023 revival of Lorraine Hansberry’s The Sign in Sidney Brustein's Window.

But you might also want to check out A View From the Bridge, Arthur Miller’s tragedy about a longshoreman’s lust for his niece, which is being revived at, of all places, the iconic downtown avantgarde theater La MaMa, with a  starry cast that includes Sam Rockwell, Marin Ireland and Alfred Molina

 

AN OFF-BROADWAY MUSICAL: Imitation of Life, opening Dec. 3 at the Shed: The novelist Fannie Hurst centered her 1933 tearjerker around two single mothers, one white and one black, struggling with the challenges of race, class, identity and female ambition. It’s been made into a movie twice and now it’s a musical with a book by Lynn Nottage and a score by the 13-time Grammy-winning singer and songwriter John Legend. The production will star Adrienne Warren and Jessica Vosk and I’m so eager to see this one that I bought my tickets the day they went on sale back in May.

But you might also want to check out: Memoirs of an Amorous Gentleman, based on a series of Japanese graphic novels and the final show with a score by Duncan Sheik, who died just last month a few days before previews began, it revolves around a Parisian courtesan who relates the stories—and kinks—of her various clients as she tries to figure out her own desires.   

 

 

 

Facing Up to Some Hard Truths About "How Shakespeare Saved My Life" & "In Honor of Jean-Michel Basquiat"

Toward the beginning of his solo show How Shakespeare Saved My Life, Jacob Ming-Trent talks movingly about how his father, a drug addict, left the family and his son adrift until the 12-year-old stumbled into a Shakespeare class and discovered that the Bard’s words could provide the ballast he needed and help him shape the rest of his life and career.  

It’s a heartwarming story and it reminded me of one that Roger Guenveur Smith tells in his show In Honor of Jean-Michel Basquiat. The equally moving scene in his show centers around how the young Roger was inspired by his father who worked as an elevator operator in the Capital, where he suffered various indignities but dreamed of a better life for his son.  

Part of what makes those references so powerful is that both Ming-Trent and Smith are black and the fact that they’re telling these stories in such places as, respectively, The Public Theater and New York Theatre Workshop, offers living proof that they’ve overcome the adversity and other disadvantages of their boyhoods. It’s the kind of up-from-their-bootstraps stuff that audiences love.  

But what really connects the two shows for me is that those anecdotes are only partially true. In an interview he gave when his show played at the Folger Theatre earlier this year, Ming-Trent discloses that his father was a novelist and his grandmother, a journalist and poet (click here to hear more). Smith’s Wikipedia page says that his father was a judge. 

Now I’m not trying to rag on these guys. It’s possible that Ming-Trent’s dad was a novelist and an addict.  And maybe Smith’s dad went to school at night, got his law degree and worked his way up to the bench. Besides, as the old saying goes, when it comes to fictional or theatrical narratives, the truth should never get in the way of a good story.  

Still, these shows also reveal a different and, at least for me, more uncomfortable truth: theater producers and audiences continue to feel most comfortable with stories about black people who are downtrodden. And that may be handicapping artists who want to tell black stories. Because as talented as Ming-Trent and Smith are—Ming-Trent was a terrific Falstaff in the Public’s Merry Wives of Windsor a few summers ago and Smith won an Obie for his performance as the leader of the Black Panthers in A Huey P Newton Story—neither of their current solo shows really work.

Because their foundations are shaky, the stories are wobbly too, veering off in directions that don’t really make sense. How did a homeless Ming-Trent find the money to make his way from Pittsburgh to New York? His story skips over that. Did Smith and the celebrated artist Basquiat have more than a passing acquaintanceship?  His story sidesteps that.

Both Ming-Trent and Smith are such charismatic presences that their shows are still entertaining and they're smart enough to keep them short. But it’s clear that each wanted to focus on something other than the stereotypical dysfunctions that the larger society continues to associate with being black in America. 

Ming-Trent is passionate about the connection he sees between Shakespeare and hip-hop artists like Biggie Smalls and Tupac Shakur. And he’s terrific when he’s quoting lines from all three. Meanwhile, Smith is most committed to exploring the challenges that black artists of all stripes—including those from middle-class, or even affluent, backgrounds—face. Those objectives get somewhat lost in these shows.

If unshackled from having to incorporate trauma tropes into their work, both writer-performers might have been able to create more complex narratives. But I don’t know if mainstream theatrical gatekeepers are ready to let them do that. 

However, they might want to beware. In 2020, the writer-director Rhada Blank released her semi-autobiographical film “The 40-Year-Old Version” about a black playwright who abandons the theater after a white producer encourages her to put more black suffering into her work. Her response before leaving was to strangle him.