Floyd Collins: How Glory Goes

The beauty of Adam Guettel's Floyd Collins isn't merely in its rhythmic, bluegrass-infused music. It isn't even in the story of a community and a family strained to the breaking point when a local tragedy becomes a nationwide media circus. The beauty of Floyd Collins is in the many kinds of hope felt by the different characters, and in their innocent ambition to achieve their disparate goals. If for no other reason than that, it is the perfect musical for a college to produce: after all, who is more hopeful and ambitious than a college student getting ready to make his or her mark on the world? Perhaps this is why the current NYU Steinhardt School's production is one of the most emotionally fulfilling shows in New York this weekend. 

The story of Floyd Collins is simple: Floyd explores caves in rural Kentucky. Floyd gets trapped when a rockfall pins his leg in a narrow stretch of one of those caves. His family tries to get him out. The locals try to get him out. As word of Floyd's situation spreads, reporters descend on the cave, and the story becomes a media sensation. As plots go, it's pretty lean. Fortunately, Guettel and bookwriter Tina Landau focus their musical on the goals that drive every character's actions, and in so doing, turn what could be a docudrama into a musical that aches with longing. Floyd wants to find a "perfect cave" that will attract enough tourists to support his family. His family wants to be reunited, even as their different goals and mindsets tear them apart. The locals want to be heroes, even as they must admit their own helplessness. And the reporters, as reporters do, want the prestige of scoring the latest scoop. Only one of the reporters, "Skeets" Miller, genuinely wants to help free Floyd from the cave, and his reports are the ones that put a human face on the tragedy, inadvertently adding fuel to the fire.

With ambition and hope as the driving emotions of the musical, then, Floyd Collins is an ideal musical for young people just getting started in life. And this cast, young though it may be, finds the heart of the show from the opening chords and holds tight to it. (Of course, to be fair, these are students at one of the most prestigious dramatic arts schools in the country, so it should be no surprise that they are able to pull off such a challenging musical so well… but for the love of God, these kids were in grade school when the show first premiered at Playwrights Horizons!) Director John Simpkins nicely balances the increasing tension with humor as dry as Kentucky bourbon, and wisely places the paralyzed Floyd (Jay Armstrong Johnson) center stage for almost the entire musical. Many productions have Floyd seated at one side of the stage so that the above-ground action can be performed without obstruction. By leaving Floyd center stage, Simpkins lets the entire show literally revolve around him and keeps the focal point of the show right in the middle of everything, even when he isn't literally there. If there is one misstep in Simpkins' staging, it would be in the famous opening ten-minute exploring sequence, in which Floyd discovers the cave that will become his prison. Traditionally, the scene is staged with Floyd alone on stage, creating a sense of isolation that will come back to haunt Floyd once he is trapped.  Simpkins has the ensemble silently follow Floyd on his exploration with pieces of debris that become different parts of the cave. It's a nice visual, but without that ten-minute stretch of solitary singing, it is all the harder to connect to Floyd's loneliness later in the show.

Fortunately, Johnson is a strong enough performer that even as his fellow actors swarm around him on the Frederick Loewe stage, we can completely believe that he is sitting alone in a dark, silent cave. Johnson spends almost the entire show sitting completely still, leaning back on some timber and beams that serve as the cave's roof and walls. He moves neither arms nor legs, and is forced to sing in a position that gives him almost no diaphragm control. His intense, haunting and powerful performance is all the more impressive for the fact that he must use only his face to convey emotion, and that his lovely singing is so hampered by his seated position. If he can pull off such a strong performance with these restrictions, one can only imagine what he can accomplish given full freedom of movement. (The only possible downside in Johnson's casting is that it's almost impossible to believe that a man with such matinee-idol good looks would explore caves in Kentucky. Even in 1925, a man with a face like that would be on Broadway or the silver screen.)

Surrounding the trapped man like satellites, the rest of the cast functions wonderfully as a tight unit when performing together, and shine in solo moments. Nic Rouleau is haunting as Floyd's little brother Homer, who must reconcile his growing wealth and independence with his inability to save his brother.  Anna Winthrop radiates quiet strength as Floyd's stoic stepmother, and Ryan Scoble is heartbreaking as the helpless father, forced to see his son buried alive. As "Skeets" Miller, a young reporter suddenly thrust into the spotlight, Jeremy Morse is all earnest energy and eagerness, and his scenes with Floyd are some of the strongest in the show. As Floyd's mentally challenged sister Nellie, Jordan Person sings beautifully, but doesn't seem to reach the same emotional peaks as the other actors. (On the other hand, it could simply be that Nellie doesn't fully understand what's at stake, and her calmness in the storm is simply another sign of her innocence.)

Rather than create a realistic cave-like set, Michael Schweikardt uses variously-sized pieces of wood to evoke the cave and the outside world. Somewhat surprisingly, it works quite nicely. Chris Dallos' lighting nicely creates ambiance and distinguishes between the cave, the world above, and the dreams of the various characters. Michelle Humphrey's costumes speak volumes about the characters, whether they be rural farmers in overalls, city reporters in sharp suits, or young women trying to look their best. Craig Kaufman's sound design makes for great cave-like acoustics, and the famous echoes in several numbers seem to come from all over the theatre, putting the audience in the cave with Floyd. Grant Wenaus conducts a band of eight that more than does justice to Guettel's difficult music, emphasizing the characters with every note.

With its intricate melodies and harmonies, Floyd Collins is a terrific challenge for any theatre company to attempt. These Steinhardt students and their strong director deserve much praise, then, for not only taking on one of the most difficult stories and scores to task, but for succeeding so admirably at it. The energy and skill of these artists makes this production one of the strongest in recent memory.