Midnight (c) Valerie Terranova
Theater: Midnight
At the Daryl Roth Theatre
There are some shows that make so much noise before it opens that I know the show’s whole history and paper trail reviews before the first note is played. I can’t say this is the case with Midnight, the exciting, daring and unwieldy new musical by internet and reality show personality Todrick Hall, whose previous projects missed me completely. But when I hear one person wrote the book, songs, choreographed and directed his first ever musical, my first instinct is skepticism. Stephen Sondheim had Hal Prince and Michael Bennett. Lin-Manuel Miranda had Thomas Kail and Andy Blankenbuehler. But as they say, confidence is half the battle, and whoever Hall convinced to help him produced a show that is truly his vision, the gamble paid off. Midnight takes its cue from Hamilton as it takes place in America’s past and creates a contemporary, all-sung-through score with an ensemble of actors hopped up on adrenaline and sheer will, who are shot out of a cannon from minute one and don’t land until almost three hours later. The play starts with the birth of Rail (Hall), whose parents are two slaves on the plantation of Sylvester (Ciarán Mccarthy), who immediately separates them, giving his mother to another house, leaving Rail to be mostly raised by the eternal mother figure Ethel (Ayana George). Although persued by the eternally optimistic Lily Rose (Charlotte Odusanya), Rail just wants to keep his head low and survive each day. That is until he meets the charming Richard (Jeremy Beloate), the possible fiancé to Scarlet (Kennedy Caughell), the daughter of Sylvester’s scheming sister Charlotte’ (Autumn Hurlbert). Richard, who was essentially raised by his family slave, has become a closet abolitionist and hires Rail to help him build a house for him and his future bride. They also secretly meet every night at midnight so Richard can teach Rail how to read and write before an impulsive kiss sets the story on an inevitable conflict between black and white, slave and master and gay and straight.
Midnight (c) Valerie Terranova
Everything about this story is exciting but familiar. The plot is overstuffed with references to Cinderella, The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn, Twelve Years a Slave and Brokeback Mountain. But then, Hall throws in a Twilight Zone twist (which I will not spoil) that adds an element of intrigue that seems unnecessary at first, but with the help of—and I can’t say this enough—this incredible cast of actors, delivers some much-needed exhilaration and unpredictability, propelling the story’s otherwise predictable conclusion to something astonishing. Hall does most everything right with all his duties. His acting is layered, his songs are stirring and catchy, and his choreography (on Morgan Large’s efficaciously economical set) has shades of Bill T. Jones, mixing beauty and social commentary in simple movements. His direction is also zippy and thrilling, but here, he may have needed an extra pair of eyes to help shape a great show into something brilliant. I know Hall has cut the show down since its workshop presentations in London, but this premiere production still feels inflated with some overly repeated themes and imagery, with each act seemingly ending four times before they actually do. He also has the cast sing together or shout the words, rendering some of the lyrics (and exposition) indecipherable, especially the sequence involving Richard’s upbringing. I wish I could highlight every actor on that stage, but the firsts among equals have to be Beloate, who is just one backflip short of adorable Benson Boone energy as Richard, and Kolbi Jordan, who, as the eternally resting-bitch-face Happy, gets the most surprising moment of the second act. And it would be a crime not to highlight Beck Jones’ beautiful and fierce costumes, with each dress seemingly outdoing the other as the show goes on. I am sure there will be a second life to Midnight after its initial run, and it would be well-deserved. Todrick Hall was given the opportunity to create his own unique vision on stage, and to quote his fellow artistic traveler, he did not throw away his shot.
The Ask (c) Joan Marcus
Theater: The Ask
At Theater 555
The generational divide gets a woke make-over for the 2020s in Matthew Freeman’s latest two hander, The Ask. We are in the homey and upscale apartment of Greta, a renowned photographer, who has settled back into New York life after splitting her time between her houses in Maine and Florida, both of which she has sold since the death of her husband. She is hosting a meeting with Tanner (Shannon Purser), a young, nervous ACLU employee who has come to talk with Greta about her estate planning and her philanthropy plans for the year. The conversation is cordial and friendly, but both seem to be weary of the inevitable ask that will come with a lot of thorny questions and strings attached. Freeman gives the characters an easy-going, naturalistic rapport when just getting to know each other, but once they get down to business, Tanner starts to orate a more corporate-like speech with every politically correct “I” is dotted and “T” is crossed, which the older Greta doesn’t have any patience for. After a while, their talk starts to sound like a podcast entitled “Is the ACLU Leaving Their Older Supporter Behind With Their Emphasis on Inequality Over Constitutional Rights.” The way the two actors are seated for most of the play (although director Jessi D. Hill does give them reason to move about occasionally), they might as well have a mic in front of them and a producer in the other room.
The Ask (c) Joan Marcus
What is spoken about is certainly important, especially once the big ask is asked by Tanner, and Greta’s understandable concerns are finally aired. The tension in that exchange is palpable. But it takes a while to get there. Purser, most known for her Emmy-nominated turn as the tragic Barb in Stranger Things, is making a strong New York City stage debut as Tanner, who has all the good salesman talking points memorized until faced with more thorny issues. Henner, who was last seen on Broadway in Getting the Band Back Together is a natural comedian (including a funny if overlong phone conversation where Henner basically delivers the line “I told him” in as many different ways as possible), but it’s her dramatic chops at the end of the play that impressed me the most. Greta has her grievances and she doesn’t back down. It’s fun to see these two actors spar, but Freeman’s motives in writing this piece is a bit suspect. Is he putting the ACLU on blast or defending their outreach to more open-minded millennials. It just feels like it’s something personal and Freeman is working through it with a lot of analysis but very little drama.
School Girls (c) Matthew Murphy
Broadway: School Girls; Or, The African Mean Girls Play
At the Samuel J. Friedman Theatre
Manhattan Theatre Club has been on a roll with plays about diverse communities and how being respectful soon devolves into conflicts over beliefs and values. After plays about a school board, Eureka Day, a neighborhood association, The Balusters and a hair salon, Jaja's African Hair Braiding, their latest production focuses on boarding school. Written by Jaja’s playwright, Jocelyn Bioh, School Girls takes place at the Aburi Girls Boarding School in Ghana in 1986 where all the talk is about the upcoming talent show to woo recruiters of the upcoming Miss Ghana beauty pageant. It’s obvious that the winner has to be Paulina (The Gilded Age’s Denée Benton), the leader of a clique of girls who brags about her familial connections to America with references to White Castle and the high-end Macys. Enter the new student, Erika (Boop! The Musical’s Jasmine Amy Rogers), a Ghanaian who has been living in America most of her life, and while she is a bit shy and modest, she does start to see through Paulina’s boasts. Erika is also a light-skinned black girl, which catches the eye of the Miss Ghana recruiter Eloise Amponsah (Sister Act’s Patina Miller), because in 1986, to compete with the other countries in the Miss Universe pageant, lighter skin is seen as more beautiful. This is a fact that even Paulina knows, as she keeps using a dangerous lightening cream that damages her skin, against the wishes of the school’s headmistress, Francis (Heather Alicia Simms).
School Girls (c) Matthew Murphy
I saw the original, longer version of School Girls when it premiered in 2017 at MCC, and while I understand the tightening of the plot to get to the talent show faster, a lot of the girls’ history and personality gets lost in this abbreviated ninety-minutes, no intermission version. The character that gets the short-shifted is Erika, who no sooner does she get introduced, is already at the competition. And despite Rogers’ likeability and her big “bring the house down” moment, it would have been nice to learn more about her character. Still, this production, directed by Whitney White, is no doubt a crowd-pleaser and just a lot of fun. When the Mean Girls aspect of the play rears its ugly head, things start to get nasty and personal for all the girls (Lucia Aremu, Jordan Rice, Nia Otchere-Sarfo), but Paulina seems to have gleeful vitriol for the overweight Nana, who, as played by Erin Morton, last seen in Heathers The Musical, becomes the audience’s favorite and object of sympathy. Jocelyn Bioh is one of New York’s most consistently reliable playwrights, where she also did an enjoyable adaptation of The Merry Wives of Windsor that was done at Shakespeare in the Park recently. The joy of seeing so many talented women command the stage on Broadway, courtesy of Manhattan Theatre Club, makes School Girls a fun night out.
Slam Frank (c) Shawn Salley Photography
Theater: Slam Frank
At the Orpheum Theatre
If you think you know the whole story about Anne Frank through her diaries, well, writers Andrew Fox and Joel Sinensky’s new musical, Slam Frank, takes a few liberties on the Jewish teen whose family hides from Nazis in an attic in Amsterdam. First all, Anne is mostly referred to as Anita (as in Rita and Chita’s biggest roles) and is Latina, played by Olivia Bernábe, with a black mother (Austen Horne) and a neurodivergent father (Rocky Paterra) and, interestingly enough, a mostly trad Frank version of her sister Margot (Amelia Louise Barr). They are joined by another family (John Anker Bow and Jaz Zepatos) that most importantly has a son Peter (Alex Lewis), whom Anita has a crush on. All of this is done, as the title indicates, as poetry slam in the style and patter of Lin-Manuel Miranda, so mics come out as each member of the attic tells their perspective of the situation (this part of the show gives off the downtown bar energy of Asylum NYC, where the show originated). Turning Frank’s diary into a sort of hip-hop fantasia is infectious fun but to show us the writers have an eye toward contemporary problems, it may offend both sides of the Isreal-Palestine debate. Are we supposed to take these flights of fancy seriously or is it just part of the hot-button-pushing, politically incorrect, woke vs unwoke, “Springtime for Hitler” mentality the rest of the show is so fond of. Director Sam LaFrage keeps things rolling throughout, and the cast seems to enjoy the confusion the issues bring up for the audience. Slam Frank revels in its willingness to push all the buttons, and it’s up to each audience member to decide if they wanted them even referred to. We just have to remember, we are watching Anita Frank’s story and any similarity to actual persons, living or dead, or to actual events is purely coincidental and totally on purpose.
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