Jason Robert Brown, one of America’s most celebrated composers and lyricists of this new millennium, is currently enjoying a resurgence with two of his finest musicals. THE LAST FIVE YEARS, an off-Broadway hit that was later adapted into a film starring Anna Kendrick, is making its return to Broadway this year starring Joe Jonas and Adrienne Warren. Meanwhile, PARADE, which originally debuted on Broadway in 1998, had a triumphant revival last year starring Ben Platt and won the Tony Award for Best Revival of a Musical. Both shows tap into the pain of loss, injustice and the sometimes “soul-crushing” ache of simply being human. Brown’s moving melodies are infused with smart lyrics (that would work just as well as plain dialogue) which elevate the emotions to new heights. He’s simply a master and his creations can be profoundly moving…in the right hands.
Opening this past weekend at Playhouse on the Square is PARADE, which tells the true story of a northern Jewish man named Leo Frank who lived in 1913 Marietta, GA with his southern-born wife, Lucille. Frank’s efforts to fit in are shattered when a young girl is raped and murdered in his place of business, and he is arrested for the crime. Whether he did it or not is not nearly as important to the community as scapegoating someone who serves as a constant reminder of the pain of losing the Civil War almost 50 years earlier. Being anything other than a Caucasian Protestant is not safe-especially when a young, white girl is dead. The events unfold on Memorial Day, and for southerners in 1913, this means a day of memorializing the Confederate soldiers who fought to secede from the union and maintain slavery-hence the annual parade.
With a book by Alfred Uhry, Brown’s dramatization of a murder trial literally marches to an impending doom interspersed with fleeting glimpses of futile hope. The score nicely represents this “march” with a faint distant drum beat that begins the tale and then increases in volume and rate placing you in the very heart of the desperate Frank. Fearlessly standing beside him is his wife, Lucille, who must endure the town’s whispers and glares, but fights like few might to clear his name. This true story reveals the power of hungry politicians buoyed by mob mentality and the devastating outcomes that are borne by the one who must face the many. This plight, filled with anguish and despair is a surprising, yet perfect vehicle for a musical…in the right hands.
Under the direction of Dave Landis, it becomes very evident all too soon that this powerful musical may not be in the right hands. In a show about a small southern town refusing to accept defeat, scenic designer Tim McMath smartly overcasts the stage backdrop with an all-encompassing shadow of the Confederate flag. Devoid of any color, this dark and brooding design is oppressively intimidating and serves as a constant reminder of the brutality inflicted on African Americans at the hands of God-fearing Christians. The image places a pit in your stomach that the audience is forced to endure throughout the evening, and it’s, in a word, genius. However, Landis inexplicably has his entire cast (including the Black and Jewish characters) all proudly sing the opening song “The Old Red Hills of Home,” which honors and celebrates Georgia’s history of fighting to keep slavery alive and secede from the Union. They are tasked with marching behind an old Confederate soldier and chant lines such as “We’ll sing ‘Dixie’ once again!” in an astonishing and ironically “tone- deaf” directorial choice. Clearly, this parade is quickly marching in the wrong direction.
Doing their best to keep things on track, though, are some fine performances and design choices that sometimes pull you back into the spirit of the show before being derailed again by other surprising casting and costuming missteps. Fortunately, almost the entire cast can sing this musically intricate show (which is no small feat), but almost all of them “overact it” and never quite settle into trusting that the plot alone is dramatic enough to keep our attention.
Brooke Papritz, as the feisty, supportive wife Lucille, carries this show (for the most part) with her powerful vocals and shines most while defending her husband to the town in “You Don’t Know This Man.” Like any human would, Lucille sometimes allows doubt about her husband’s innocence to creep in, but Papritz keeps her focused and willing to fight. She’s a spouse we’d all be lucky to have in our corner. This performance is easily the best of the night.
Justin Asher is an interesting choice to play the persecuted northern Jew, Leo Frank. Asher is easily the tallest man on the stage and the visuals of seeing him figuratively and literally “fight off” the lynching mob is akin to seeing the citizens hunt down the titular characters in BEAUTY AND THE BEAST or THE HUNCHBACK OF NOTRE DAME. Alone, no one could take this man, but collectively he hasn’t a chance. Appropriately, Asher’s Leo isn’t a “fighter” in the traditional sense, being that he trusts his true innocence to be his protector. His confusion and fear about his situation consume him, but Asher is ultimately at his best when he lets his understandable anger and frustration spill over. Together, as husband and wife, Asher and Papritz make a formidable duo in their songs, but finally hit their stride in Act 2’s rendition of “All the Wasted Time,” lamenting not appreciating each other more when they had the chance.
Another standout performance comes from Marvin Holt, playing the criminal-turned-snitch, Jim Conley. As a man desperate to get himself out of trouble, Holt pins the crime on Frank in an ever-exploding rendition of “That’s What He Said.” The testimony is devastating, but Holt’s voice and delivery are exceptional.
As Mary Phagan, the unfortunate young girl who loses her life, Madilyn Mobbs has a fine voice and offers a compelling characterization, despite looking a bit too old to pull off being just 13 years old. Similarly, JD Willis, as Mary’s wannabe boyfriend, Frankie Epps, is too old to fit the part of an awkward teenager, but like Mobbs, has a particularly good voice which allows for some latitude.
The rest of the cast keeps up well with their vocals, but many still appear to lack the acting experience to gauge when they’re overplaying it or losing the audience completely. The scenes involving Governor John Slaton and Judge Roan almost derail the show entirely if not for the more veteran actors (Kent Fleshman and Jimbo Lattimore) doing their best to not allow things to come to a screeching halt.
Special recognition must go to musical director, Dustin Pappin, and his orchestra. As a group of musicians playing Jason Robert Brown, they offer some of the best sounds coming out of the Playhouse pit in a long time.
Technically, the show looks great with McMath’s previously mentioned set design combined with the lighting by Rachel Lauren. Working off each other, they create a world of darkness and danger with a theatricality that perfectly escalates the stakes at hand. Joshua Crawford’s sound design bounces back for this show, and almost everyone is easily heard and understood. Unfortunately, Lindsay Schmeling’s costume design was far more distracting than compelling. Between the ill-fitting costumes on the men and the loudly disrupting “period” costumes on the women, it’s hard to imagine these all fitting authentically into early 20th century norms. But, if they do, need they be so distracting?
Overall, this PARADE feels more disjointed than working as a unified production, marching in solid step, and surging to a crescendo. This historical tale has all the elements of a captivating courtroom drama-even without the music. Jason Robert Brown’s spectacular music and lyrics raise the emotional intensity to a gut-punching level, but this production never finds its rhythm to sustain the momentum to hit its peak. There are moments that work quite well, followed by others that spectacularly don’t. Maybe over the course of the run, this parade will eventually hit its stride, but for now, it’s currently marching to the beat of too many different drummers, and that is the true crime here.
Reader Reviews
Videos