Tag: Lin-Manuel Miranda

Categories
Theater Theater Feature

A World Turned Upside Down

A.D. Weaver as George Washington in Hamilton (Photo: Joan Marcus)

A crash course in historical irony was on hand last night, as my son and I trundled into the Orpheum to see Hamilton: An American Musical. While the cast of the celebrated musical sang and rapped their way through the circumstances and ideals upon which this country was founded, a shadowy Trump administration and its unelected advisor, Elon Musk, had just frozen funds for the National Endowment for Democracy in direct violation of the 1974 Impoundment Control Act (which mandates that funds appropriated by Congress be distributed to their proper recipients). Meanwhile, the United States apparently abandoned all commitments to erstwhile ally Ukraine. Authoritarian states like China and Russia were delighted by both moves. And, with characteristic hubris, Trump tweeted “LONG LIVE THE KING,” referring to himself. Welcome to another day in Upside-Down World, where a supine Republican Congress continues to give the executive branch free rein.

Meanwhile, the National Endowment for the Arts (NEA) diverted all funding originally targeting underserved communities only two weeks ago. Instead, those monies shall now go to projects honoring the 250th anniversary of the Declaration of Independence. That, perhaps, is the most chilling irony: the NEA celebrating a revered historical document as a kind of fetish while caving in to principles that defy its very intent.

It was not always thus. As Hamilton creator Lin-Manuel Miranda told CBS News in 2017, without the NEA he might never have had a career at all.

“My first musical was workshopped at the O’Neill Musical Theatre Center, which is partly funded by the NEA,” he said. “But that’s not even the real story. The real story is the NEA funds things in all 50 states. They are the supplement when arts programs get cut. They fund reading programs between parents and young children in Kentucky. They fund, you know, educational initiatives all over the state, all over the United States. So, when we talk about the NEA, we’re talking about a very small amount of money that does get an enormous return on its investment in terms of what it gets out of our citizens.”

How could one not imagine President Trump’s royal ambitions whenever Hamilton‘s farcical character of King George III (Justin Matthew Sargent) appeared, full of imperious condescension, the perfect foil for the musical’s American patriots? It was enough to give this audience member chills, a bracing reminder of this country’s origins.

The Orpheum has always championed Miranda’s 2015 musical, having been the first theater to bring Hamilton to Tennessee in 2019, then again in 2021. And while those touring productions were stellar, the new touring production, at the Orpheum until March 2nd, hits differently. Suddenly, it seems more necessary than ever.

From the beginning, Hamilton was a shot across the bow for diversity, equity, and inclusion. Its central conceit was to recast the country’s white, propertied “Founding Fathers” as multi-ethnic players fired with the grit and grind of hip hop culture and the soaring emotions of an R&B ballad. And, as Miranda told the New York Times after its opening, “Our cast looks like America looks now, and that’s certainly intentional. It’s a way of pulling you into the story and allowing you to leave whatever cultural baggage you have about the founding fathers at the door.”

Indeed, the musical’s staunchly pro-immigrant ethos is a heartening reminder that Trump is not our king. This was abundantly clear last night, when, during the “Yorktown (The World Turned Upside Down)” scene, after the Marquis de Lafayette (Jared Howelton) says the word “immigrants,” and Hamilton (Michael Natt) joins him in saying, “We get the job done,” there were enthusiastic cheers and whoops in the audience. Clearly, I was not the only one who’s spirits were bolstered.

Natt, as a person of color, perfectly embodied the idealism and the drive of his character, delivering the rhymes and raps — sometimes derived from actual historical texts — with understated aplomb, as did his more aggressive foil, Jimmie “JJ” Jeter as Aaron Burr. Lauren Mariasoosay, of South Asian ancestry, masterfully inhabited the unique mix of Colonial-era decorum and emotionalism of Eliza Hamilton, especially in the anguish she conveys at the show’s final moment, just before the house goes dark. And perhaps none captured the play’s inclusive spirit more than the regal A.D. Weaver as George Washington, who expressed all the gravitas that the role demands.

Washington’s repudiation of demands that he become the young nation’s new king, insisting instead on mounting an election for his successor, was a compelling beacon of hope in these dark times, when an American president dares call himself king and jokes about never needing elections again. In matter-of-factly expressing, with new urgency, what once seemed to be this nation’s imperfectly executed yet fundamental principles — a respect for diversity, the peaceful transfer of power, and the rule of law — Hamilton preserves the ideals that we’ve thus far taken for granted and offers the possibility that they haven’t been forgotten.

Back in 2016, newly elected Vice President Mike Pence attended a performance of Hamilton that caused quite a stir when Brandon Dixon, the actor playing Burr, stepped out to share some thoughts with the audience and Pence after the curtain call. If those words rang true then, they are even more critical today, as all of the first Trump administration’s excesses are amplified beyond belief. See Hamilton if you can, take your sons and daughters, and when you do, remember Dixon’s reminder to Pence:

We, sir, are the diverse America who are alarmed and anxious that your new administration will not protect us, our planet, our children, our parents — or defend us and uphold our inalienable rights, sir. But we truly hope that this show has inspired you to uphold our American values and work on behalf of all of us. All of us.

Categories
Film Features Film/TV

In The Heights: A Nation of Immigrants in Joyous Song

Anthony Ramos and Melissa Barrera star in the long-awaited musical "In The Heights."

One of the most stinging political critiques of the United States ever penned came from a musical. In the the 1950s, the decade now lionized as our golden age, the country was fresh off saving the world from fascism in World War II, and desperately high on its own propaganda supply. Along comes West Side Story, the 1957 Broadway adaptation of Romeo and Juliet, set in the Hispanic immigrant quarter of New York City, where teenage race gangs challenged the idea of the melting pot. In a time when racism and discrimination was studiously avoided in pop culture, “America” laid out the county’s stark dichotomies of poverty and prosperity, and set it to a jaunty beat. Presented as a dialog between optimistic women and pessimistic men of Manhattan’s Puerto Rican immigrant community, every one of Stephen Sondheim’s couplets cut to the bone. “Free to be anything you choose/Free to wait tables and shine shoes.” “I’ll get a terrace apartment/Better get rid of your accent.” “Life is all right in America/If you’re all white in America.”

The West Side Story generation is represented in In The Heights by Abuela (Olga Merediz), the kindly grandmother who immigrated to America in the 1940s. She tells the story of what happened to the Anitas and Bernardos of the world with “Paciencia Y Fe,” just one of the show-stoppers in this fantastic musical. 

The first draft of In the Heights was written by Lin-Manuel Miranda in 1999, when he was a sophomore at Wesleyan University. In 2008, the future Hamilton made his Broadway debut playing Usnavi De La Vega, the owner of a corner bodega in the Washington Heights neighborhood of Manhattan’s Upper West Side. In the long-awaited film adaptation, Usnavi is played by Anthony Ramos, and Miranda is demoted to the role of Piraguero, a shaved ice vendor who witnesses the gentrification of the historic immigrant neighborhood. 

Usnavi is proud of his bodega, and the community it nourishes, but he longs to return to the Dominican Republic and reopen the beachside bar his late father left to bring them to America. But his plans for the future are complicated by his crush on Vanessa (Melissa Barrera), who works in the corner nail salon run by Daniela (Daphne Rubin-Vega). Meanwhile, Nina Rosario (Leslie Grace), is returning to the neighborhood where she grew up after her freshman year at Stanford. Nina’s father Kevin Rosario (Jimmy Smits), a self-made man who owns a car service, has sacrificed much to send her to the expensive university. Nina, feeling guilty about the burden she had put on her family, has decided to drop out. Her movement between worlds is symbolized by her return to the salon, where she trades straight hair for curly, like the other neighborhood girls. 

The subject of In The Heights, gentrification pushing out the natives of a long-ignored neighborhood in favor of higher-income, mostly white newcomers, turned out to be the defining fact of twenty-first century urban life. Daniela’s nail salon is being forced to move to The Bronx, and the private equity vultures are circling the Rosario’s business. In 2021, what was a New York-centric driver of conflict when Miranda picked up his pen is now relatable content in communities all over the country. Miranda’s distinctive, rapid-fire, rap-sing style of lyrical delivery made famous by Hamilton apparently emerged fully formed when he was but a wee polymath. But the sprawling ensemble and intertwining micro-narratives of In The Heights lack Hamilton’s focus and deep characterization. 

One of In The Heights massive dance numbers filmed on the streets of New York City.

While you’re in the hands of director Jon M. Chu, you’re not going to care about that very much. Chu comes out guns blazing with an epic dance sequence set to the overture, introducing the setting and characters while choreographing literally hundreds of hoofers through the real streets of New York City. “96,000” goes full Busby Berkley with a reported 500 dancers pulling shapes in an actual public pool. The film’s most gleeful show stopper is “No Me Diga,” an ensemble number set in the nail salon, featuring dancing wig heads. 

Just as in Robert Wise’s 1961 West Side Story film adaptation, the leads are outshone by the supporting actors. Ramos and Barrera are great as the narrator and the object of his desire, but Grace’s deeply conflicted Nina commands the screen, and Smits (who even does some singing) is simply magnificent as the aging patriarch struggling to provide a better life for her. 

In The Heights joins Moulin Rouge, Chicago, La La Land, and Rocketman on the list of great 21st century film musicals. If you’ve been waiting for something awesome to draw you back to the movie theater after a painful pandemic pause, this is the one. 

In The Heights is now playing in theaters at multiple locations, and streaming on HBO Max.

Categories
Film/TV Film/TV/Etc. Blog

History Has Its Eyes on You: Hamilton Bows on Disney+

I have a confession and a prediction.

First, the confession: Before watching the film of the Broadway show now streaming on Disney+, I had never seen Hamilton. I had added the cast recording to my iTunes library, where it languished after one perfunctory listen. It’s not that I don’t like musicals. On the contrary, I’m much more into musicals than most middle-aged white guys; I’d much rather go to a musical than a football game. I would have loved to have seen Hamilton live on Broadway, but the truth is I was too broke to afford a pair of $500 tickets. When the touring company came to the Orpheum, I came up empty in the press pass lottery.

Maybe I could have scraped together the dough, but I wasn’t motivated to, because as a passionate student of American history, I’ve never been a big fan of Alexander Hamilton. The founder of the country’s first central bank and probable closeted royalist has always come across as an ambitious schemer to me, even as I generously quoted Publius, the pen name he used while writing the bulk of the Federalist Papers. For me, Hamilton has always represented those who love America more for its capitalism than for its democracy. The penniless immigrant from the Caribbean turned self-made statesman was ripe for a reputation renovation, but it was his status as proto-capitalist that allowed Hamilton the musical to see the light of day. If you don’t believe that’s true, let me tell you about my thwarted plans for an epic musical biography of five-time socialist presidential candidate Eugene V. Debs. “Wall Street thinks you’re great,” sings Aaron Burr (Leslie Odom Jr.). “You’ll always be adored by the things you create.”

Lin-Manuel Miranda as Alexander Hamilton and Phillipa Soo as Eliza Hamilton

But it is Hamilton’s moral ambiguity that makes him such a rich character in the hands of Lin-Manuel Miranda. There’s a lot of sappy, second-rate musical theater, which hits big on the strength of melody and sentiment. (Andrew Lloyd Webber, I’m looking at you.) Hamilton is the opposite. Part of Broadway’s cultural function has traditionally been to assimilate different popular music traditions, and Hamilton’s integration of hip-hop with show tunes is the perfect example. Miranda uses the lyrical density to weave a decade-spanning story of wartime heroism, political intrigue, and personal ambition. Rap cyphers turn out to be the ideal format to dramatize George Washington’s confrontational cabinet meetings.

Manuel’s music and story sit among the greatest of Broadway history. It’s easy to craft inspirational songs about revolutionary fervor — just look at Les Misérables. But creating a song about the ugly political wrangling that comes after a successful revolution is something else entirely. The first act of Hamilton is filled with bangers like “History Has Its Eye on You,” but the depth of Manuel’s genius is revealed in the second act’s “The Room Where It Happens.” Sung by Burr, the story’s heel (and a right bastard in real life), it’s a show-stopper about the creation of a national banking system and the geographical placement of Washington, D.C. Who even knew such a thing was possible?

(left) Leslie Odom Jr. as Aaron Burr

Now, the prediction. In a few years, once we’ve fought COVID-19 to a draw and film production can resume, The House of Mouse is going to drop $100 million to make a blockbuster version of Hamilton. They’ll film in Independence Hall (the room where it happened) and “Guns and Ships” will be staged at a lavishly recreated Battle of Yorktown. But it won’t have a tenth of the power of the version that just dropped on Disney+.

Thomas Kail, who directed both the Broadway musical and the film, uses techniques pioneered by Jonathan Demme in Stop Making Sense, cutting together footage captured over three nights of shows at the Richard Rogers Theatre in June 2016. The original cast had been the toast of the town for a year at that point, and the show had just set records at the Tonys and was about to take home a Pulitzer. From the first close-up of Miranda as Hamilton, backed by a chorus singing “What’s your name, man?,” it’s clear that these performers are on fire. Tony winner Renée Elise Goldsberry as Hamilton’s sister-in-law Angelica, roars onto the stage for her introduction in “The Schuyler Sisters.” Christopher Jackson as George Washington visibly chokes back sobs when the crowd leaps to their feet for “One Last Time.” After the duel that claims Hamilton’s life, the fires of victory turn to ashes in the mouth of Odom as Burr. No soundstage-bound film will ever match the blood-and-guts heroism of these glorious humans facing a full house on a Friday night.

Renée Elise Goldsberry (center) as Angelica Schuyler

Hamilton bowed on Broadway in August 2015, three months after the decade’s other towering masterpiece, Mad Max: Fury Road, hit movie theaters, and only a few weeks after Donald Trump announced his presidential campaign. Like Fury Road, the cascading catastrophes that began in 2016 have deepened Hamilton’s meaning. For all the flaws of the Founding Fathers — and they had many — their experiment in government by the people, for the people has endured and brought hope to the world. Hamilton lived at a moment when the old order was breaking down and an opportunity for a new, more just alignment of power became possible. 2020 now looks like one of those times. In Hamilton’s day, the young Republic was threatened by the personal ambitions of powerful men. So, too, is it in our day. In Manuel’s telling, Hamilton’s ambition is both his driving force and tragic flaw. Nevertheless, he recognized the dangers of a president driven only by the will to power when he swallowed his pride and endorsed his longtime rival in 1800. “When all is said and done/Jefferson has beliefs/Burr has none.”

History Has Its Eyes on You: Hamilton Bows on Disney+

Categories
Theater Theater Feature

Hamilton in Memphis: A Call to Arms

CREDIT: The Orpheum

The Orpheum

Scene from ‘Hamilton’

Hamilton bounced into the national consciousness four years ago, first Off-Broadway in February 2015, and at Broadway’s Richard Rodgers Theatre the following August. Critics swooned, advance box office sales broke records. The show earned 16 Tony nominations and won 11, and on and on. Its success came from Lin-Manuel Miranda (lyrics, music, and book) and his understanding of what makes great musical theater and how to artfully break the rules.

In the years since, it’s conquered Broadway and started a national tour, coming this week to the Orpheum for a comparatively long run through July 28th. It earned its stripes with a fresh take on a good old American story line: Immigrants come to the New World and carve out a new nation rooted in rationalism and humanity with respect for its citizens. Okay, the white, male, non-native, land-owning citizens, but still. Except Hamilton flips it all and casts mostly non-white actors as the Founding Fathers and their wives. Genius.

Four years can be a long time, however, as in the length of a presidential term. What was born in the Obama era as an innovative take on the origins of the United States has now found itself on a very different stage. It’s the same story, yes, and if you think you’ll like a well-scripted musical heavily reliant on hip-hop but with ample R&B, pop, soul, and good ol’ show tunes, you’ll enjoy it, maybe even be moved by it.

But today you can’t help but experience it with the knowledge that the nation these people fought and died to create is deeply corrupted. The country was cobbled together by imperfect people with imperfect results, but they were doing it in the Age of Reason, a time when there was thoughtful discourse and a desire to crush tyranny. For the most part, they set up processes that would allow the country to evolve while keeping its character and integrity.

Hamilton, though, also shows the beginnings of what we have today, a government that has scant philosophy, since it runs on the energy of partisan warfare. Power to the party that gets it and holds it by any means necessary. The musical skewers the machinations of the post-Washington politicians — Jefferson, Madison, and Burr in particular — as they jockeyed for influence. But there are plenty of others to indict, then and now.

You may well come out of the musical with a good feeling, as it is a sharply directed, well choreographed, smartly written story of passions. But though it wasn’t intended when it debuted a short lifetime ago, it now also gives the theater-goer something else to carry. In a country where cruelty is mandated by the executive, where ethics at the federal level are shredded, where reason has been abandoned, where truth is fluid, let Hamilton be a call to arms to revive the era of American Enlightenment.