Parade at New York University

I should make two prefaces to this review. First, I would ordinarily never publicly criticize a college production– after all, most of the people involved are still students of their respective crafts, and should not be judged as professionals. Second, I have been a devout Paradian ("Paradian"– n., one who is obsessed with Jason Robert Brown's Broadway musical Parade, going so far as to roadtrip to distant cities to see productions) since I saw a preview of the show at Lincoln Center in 1998. The musical retelling of Mary Phagan/Leo Frank tragedy holds a special place in my heart as one of the most powerful and brilliant shows of the 1990's. After all, what's not to love in a musical about a married couple who find true love and devotion only when the husband is convicted of murdering a little girl? So when I read all the raves of New York University's Program in Vocal Performance production of the show on BroadwayWorld's messageboard, I decided that I had to see how it compared to the professional, community, and other university productions I've traveled all over the East Coast to see.

And I am delighted to report that these students have admirably risen to the many challenges presented by this complex musical. Oh, there are the usual assortment of problems inherent to any school production– maturing voices and talents, young actors playing elderly characters– but by and large, these gifted young performers find the dramatic heart of the show, and bring it brilliantly to life.

As directed by faculty member John Simpkins, this production has a gritty, urban feel that nicely evokes the industrial age in the economically weak South of the post-civil war era. Simpkins seems to have derived some inspiration from Harold Prince's staging ideas in places, but never in a way that feels out of place with the rest of his otherwise original vision of this show. His staging, combined with Michael Schweikardt's brilliant set, makes excellent use of the Frederick Loewe Theatre's large stage: two rows of two large panels made to look like the high-windowed walls of factories slide back and forth, obscuring and revealing different parts of the stage as necessary. Behind these panels hangs a tattered Confederate flag, as unsubtle as the Southern pride of the turn-of-the-century Georgians. Unlike most productions, there is no ominous tree upstage dominating the set throughout the show; rather, a long limb with many smaller branches is present at the very top of the set, noticeable but never intrusive. It is a simple touch that fits very nicely with the rest of the visual and dramatic themes. Michelle Humphrey's accurate period costumes are lovely, and Christopher Windom deserves special praise for his excellent choreography, aptly performed by the ensemble and by Ryan Driscoll in the infamous "Come Up To My Office" number.

Driscoll, an Equity performer studying at NYU, is simply excellent as the tragic hero of the show. Leo, an educated Yankee Jew transplanted to Atlanta, is terrified of the alien world around him, and Driscoll lets this fear permeate every word and gesture of his performance. His Leo's distance is a survival tactic, which makes his gradual emergence into a compassionate husband (and, by proxy, the lowering of his emotional defenses) all the more powerful. Rebecca Ryan sings beautifully and contributes more than her share to the couple's excellent chemistry, but makes the odd choice of playing Lucille Frank as tough, intelligent, and sassy, which rather undermines the entire point of the character. Lucille, at the musical's beginning, is a proper Southern wife, a mousy and shy girl who has no idea of how to connect to her emotionally distant husband. It is only when his life is threatened that she comes into her own as a real person, and while Ms. Ryan's performance at the end is spot-on, her Lucille has little room to undergo any growth as a character. It makes little sense that Leo would sing to her "I would never have believed it, the things I see in you" when she has been so powerful from the beginning.

Michael Craig, as the similarly-named reporter Britt Craig, is magnetic and charming and sings with great skill and flair. Caitlin Crosbie Doonan, as the bereaved mother of the murdered child, is heartbreaking in her small part, performing with an intensity that never steals attention, but poignantly captures the character's grief. Christopher LaCroix plays the maniacal newspaper editor Tom Watson as a mentally unbalanced religious fanatic, making a nice commentary on contemporary leaders who abuse their position in their communities. Maurice Parent, as the crafty janitor whose testimony condemns Leo, has an excellent voice and great sense of timing, although neither he nor any of the other Black cast members play up the subservience that would have been necessary for a Black person's survival at the time. "A Rumblin' and a Rollin'," a brilliant song in which the Black characters drop their Uncle Tom masks and speak freely for once, loses its impact when the masks were never present to begin with. The ensemble, on the whole, performs very well as a unit, although some chorus members seem not to have yet learned that performing in unison with a group does not give one permission to drop one's individual character.

But that's a minor quibble, really. On the whole, this production is outstanding, and deeply moving on many levels. If you can, try to get on the waiting list for Sunday's final performance. In a few years, you will be able to boast that you saw the Newest Hot Young Broadway Star when he or she was doing school shows.

Parade has one more performance on Sunday at 3. Call 212-998-5281 for tickets. New York University's Frederick Loewe Theater is at 35 West 4th Street.