Review: Regarding HAMILTON at Dr. Phillips Center, Come for the American Adventure, Stay for the Revolutionary Revision to History

Imagine going on vacation and finding your next musical in an 818-page biography about that guy on the ten-dollar bill that nobody really knows much about.

Imagine writing an 818-page biography about that guy on the ten-dollar bill that nobody really knows much about.

Imagine being that guy on the ten-dollar bill that nobody really knows much about.

Alexander Hamilton simply could not have foreseen his life story taking on an extended afterlife of its own over two hundred years after his death. Much in the same way most students know about the Salem Witch Trials through the dramatization found in Arthur Miller's The Crucible, it's safe to assume virtually every student of U.S. history from 2015 onward may better know the intimate details of this Founding Father through Lin-Manuel Miranda's HAMILTON. The musical occasionally fudges facts for dramatic licence (e.g. in real life, Angelica Schuyler was already married when she first met Alexander), but still does an astoundingly accurate job of portraying the life and death of Hamilton from that unassuming beginning in the Caribbean to that fateful duel in Weehawken, New Jersey.

Granted, Alexander's young life breezes by in less than four minutes ("Alexander Hamilton"), a far cry from the first forty pages of Ron Chernow's Alexander Hamilton. Yet it gets us where we need to go by introducing Alexander (Edred Utomi) as the idealistic college student fresh off the boat in New York City hoping to make his mark ("My Shot"). Along the way, he meets his eventual rival, Aaron Burr (Josh Tower), while also forming a close friendship with fellow scholars Marquis de Lafayette (David Park), Hercules Mulligan (Deejay Young), and John Laurens (Jon Viktor Corpuz). Life in the American colonies have reached the inevitable turning point as talks of independence from Britain are now becoming active acts of rebellion. Alexander and his cohorts wish to gladly join the fight ("The Story of Tonight"). The foppish King George (Peter Matthew Smith) doesn't think much of this rebellion, but still threatens those who may oppose his reign ("You'll Be Back").

As the revolution looms ahead, Alexander wants to command his own troop, but in the meantime accepts a position as aide to General Washington (Neptune). At a winter's ball, New York society officially meets the wealthy Schuyler sisters, with Alexander taking an interest in Eliza ("Helpless"). This meet-cute evolves into a courtship and wedding, as Eliza's older sister Angelica toasts the married couple. Privately, she thinks back to her original longings for Alexander, and how she put her duty and her sister's love above her own wants ("Satisfied").

The war has gone on for some time, with Alexander still frustrated at not receiving a command. When another captain makes disparaging marks about General Washington, John Laurens challenges the man to a duel ("Ten Duel Commandments") with Alexander as his second. Washington learns of the duel; although Laurens was the victor, the General chastises Alexander for putting himself in harm's way and orders him home. At home, Eliza tells him they will have a child ("That Would Be Enough"), which gives Alexander the resolve and want to now stay by his wife's side so he can be present as a father. Eventually, Alexander returns to Washington's side, commanding his own regiment. Like his companions - Lafayette, Laurens, and Mulligan - he plays a vital part in victory for the colonies ("Yorktown"). The newly-formed United States of America takes baby steps towards becoming its own empire, with Alexander at the forefront of it all ("Non-Stop").

Act One of HAMILTON could easily be subtitled "Alexander the Great," charting his meteoric rise from humble scholar to one of the most respected members of Washington's Army. It's also self-contained enough to function as its own story, with a definitive beginning, middle, and end to this particular chapter in his life. However, Alexander's story clearly doesn't end with the formation of the United States. In Act Two, everything that he's built up and worked for gets challenged and changed in ways he could not anticipate. I liken the second act to "Great... it's Alexander," as sometimes his own hubris in his abilities would become his undoing. Act Two takes a more serious tone to his story, all the joy and the elation of the brash young twentysomething has been replaced by betrayal, devastation, and his inevitable death. It's just a matter of how we get to that death that makes his story so compelling and a must-watch no matter how many times we may have seen the show or heard the music.

The best shows on Broadway often are those that function as turning points in theatre history. Show Boat opined that American musical theatre can be serious instead of fluffy. Oklahoma! legitimized songs as important contributions to plot. West Side Story enforced the importance of dance to both narrative and character. Concepts musicals like Company and A Chorus Line ask audiences to rethink beyond traditional narrative. Rent puts topical issues at the forefront through a variety of new and radical characters. HAMILTON builds upon this legacy of turning points while still contributing its own to the quilt of the stage musical. Through HAMILTON we get a revisionist lens at history, marrying it in the unlikeliest ways to hip-hop and rap, to make this figurehead's contributions to American government relevant for a modern audience that may otherwise not be interested.

It's difficult to classify HAMILTON as a modernization, since it's not exactly reframing the Alexander Hamilton life story to events of 2015. But it borrows familiar storytelling tropes and reframes them to actual history, with music and lyrics that - at least for the past seven years - still feels timely and relevant for an audience today. Intentionally framing HAMILTON in its colonial times but sewing it together through rap ensures that the piece never truly feels it belongs to one specific time period and, thus, can pull off the anachronism of a rap battle in the middle of a cabinet meeting.

Honestly, it works. In musical theatre, we're already asked to believe that a 1910 Gothic novel would play more like a rock opera (The Phantom of the Opera) and that the wives of Henry VIII go on a pop music tour (Six). This is a form of storytelling where dream ballets interrupt the narrative for fifteen minutes (Oklahoma!) and audience members get pulled onstage to spell "ecdysiast" (25th Annual Putnam County Spelling Bee). The "rules" of what makes musical theatre great are constantly adapted and rewritten because like all forms of art, it needs these levels of evolution to ensure that it thrives for new audiences. Even when a musical tries to present itself as old-fashioned in presentation (Hello, Far From Heaven), its subject matter instantly cries out as something progressive or radically different from a show made a mere ten or twenty years earlier.

HAMILTON is no different in these respects, but what sets this show apart and causes it to be a phenomenon is that it's playing with a story that people have revered over time as The Great Men Who Built America. However, it's also turning every convention of those legendary tales on their head. These men were not perfect, the birth of a new nation was not always a noble road, the sunrise on the American empire did not have clear skies. Alexander may be at the forefront of this story, but he's never portrayed as the austere gentleman that graces the $10 bill. Dialogue continually enforces his feeling of othering among those who know him. As an immigrant with no social standing, he fights uphill battles with the strength of his intellect and merit, but still feels insecure and inferior among the career politicians and old-money colonists of his time.

In addition to a more vulnerable portrayal of Alexander, HAMILTON also looks to flesh out characters we typically only know through the traditional and on-the-record recollections. A fellow Founding Father like Jefferson gets recontextualized as a villain in Act Two, whilst still being true to historical events. There's no denying the impact Jefferson had in the shaping of this country, but the politics behind it cannot be ignored either. Likewise, this musical strives to make sure that the women, often thrown to the sidelines in their time, are given agency beyond their purpose of marrying rich. Angelica Schuyler's the cleverest one in the room, but she doesn't ever use that mind of hers as openly as in her "Satisfied" number. She knows that even with all the money in the world, she's still playing a game that paints her as a second-class citizen. Eliza burns her letters not just due to the pain of Alexander's extra-marital affair, but to dictate how the world will see her. She knows what her words could mean; depriving the world of them gives her a modicum of control where she is otherwise granted very little.

Redefining American lore is part and parcel of the greatness of HAMILTON. The classroom version of history has always been a cut-and-dried formula that relies more on the myth of America rather than the finer intricacies found in this musical. When we lionize the Founding Fathers as faultless patriots who did no wrong, it spreads the wrong message. HAMILTON only plays that card once, but with a specific purpose. The reverence every single character (except Charles Lee) has for George Washington paints him very much as the heroic cherry-tree-chopping figure of fourth-grade social studies class. But it's an intentional deceit because Washington represents the literal father figure Alexander has always wanted. As a result, the entire country also bestows a filial piety upon George. They need that father figure just as badly as Alexander does. Burr constantly seeks his approval, Eliza begs him to intervene on her behalf, even Jefferson has high regard for him. When Washington elects to retire rather than run for a third term of office, both political parties are in turmoil because the thought of replacing him is inconceivable.

All these layers to characters and themes of fatherhood come to play in a musical that, since its inception, have now enjoyed still-running productions on Broadway and the West End, years-long residencies in Chicago and LA, an upcoming German-language production, and multiple tours that often take extended periods of time in their cities before they move on. Central Florida last played host to HAMILTON in the early winter of 2019, and is now benefitting from a four-week engagement in Orlando's Dr. Phillips Center. This production has been called the "Angelica Tour" to differentiate from the simultaneously-running "Philip Tour" and "And Peggy Tour," and also boasts two natives to Central Florida among its company of players. Ensemble player Yesi Garcia hails from Miami, while Jon Viktor Corpuz (John Laurens/Philip Hamilton) is native to Tampa.

Corpuz's double duty as both John Laurens and Philip Hamilton only lasted through October 30, after which Jared Howelton takes over for the rest of the run. On a personal note, it was extremely gratifying to see not just Corpuz on that stage, but that he was sharing it with fellow Asian-American performers Jorrel Javier (Philip Schuyler/James Reynolds/Doctor) and David Park (Marquis de Lafayette/Thomas Jefferson). HAMILTON has always prided itself in the color-blind casting where performers can be of any race, ethnicity, country regardless which part they play. I grew up in a time where a black queen and white king can have a Filipino prince (1997's Cinderella with Whoopi Goldberg, Victor Garber, and Paolo Montalban, respectively), so seeing HAMILTON employ that kind of casting as the standard rather than the exception is another feather in the show's cap.

The sheer amount of diversity on the stage better allows HAMILTON to be a more accurate mirror to the American populace today, but with diversity must come the talent to perform. Every actor on that stage earned their parts, none more so than Hamilton himself, Edred Utomi. He has the unenviable task of filling in Lin-Manuel Miranda's shoes. When you're stepping into the role that the very creator of the musical originated, you not only have big shoes to fill, but you must wear them as if they were your very own. Utomi's voice has an uncannily similar tone to Miranda's, a soundalike where he could easily dub over him if he were so inclined. Yet his delivery of such familiar songs as "My Shot" and "Hurricane" had more nuance and cadence to it. I can probably attribute that to being performed on a stage as opposed to cast recording; when you're caught up in the moment of the character it always sounds different to the comfort and claustrophobia of a sound booth.

Utomi does more than sound like Miranda, though. His portrayal of Alexander offers a sincere understanding of the want to impress, but the self-preservation of holding back. Early on, his rigidness when speaking with Aaron Burr seemed a little off, almost like he wasn't sure of his marks. But over the course of the evening, I realized he was tapping into an aspect of Alexander that plays perfectly to Burr. The latter's constant reminder to "talk less, smile more" always held him back. Blocking for the part literally always keeps Burr at a distance from everyone else. For Alexander (and, thus, Utomi), he's trying to emulate this mode of thinking, even if he doesn't fully believe in it. Hence, the discomfort opposite Burr. Throughout the show, though, this discomfort would disappear opposite other characters, as Utomi recognizes when Alexander should relax versus tense up.

What makes this performance so memorable, too, is how Utomi responds to the same exact performers between two acts when they're playing entirely different characters. While ensemble players tend to juggle multiple roles in traditional musicals, HAMILTON also goes an atypical route by recasting lead performers into entirely different roles between Acts One and Two. Thus, characters who were close to Alexander and played a principle role in the first half of his life are gone in the second, but the same players get new roles as a result.

Particularly, David Park delights audiences in both acts because in the first he plays Alexander's buddy Lafayette ("Guns and Ships" never sounded so chaotically coherent), while in the second he's now a bitter rival as Jeffersonn. Between both roles, Park must embody two very different characters. And acting opposite Utomi, both must display both the trust and camaraderie for Hamilton/Lafayette, then the distrust and suspicion for Hamilton/Jefferson. Park's turn in both roles elicited perhaps the loudest cheers in the auditorium throughout the night. There's no denying the charm he held over the audience. A consensus among my fellow attendees post-show also showed appreciation for Park's performance: some preferred his Lafayette, others for his Jefferson, but there was unilateral support for him as our favorite performer. Suffice to say, I think the Unauthorized David Park Fan Club now has an Orlando chapter.

Of course, playing favorites shouldn't be a factor in one's approach to HAMILTON. We're all bound to gravitate toward particular performers or characters. The joy of theatre is seeing how different performers approach these now-familiar characters. One such character is The Bullet, an ensemble player whose role is subtle at first, but gradually becomes more and more prominent as the play goes on. As she interacts with various characters, she foreshadows their death in little ways, before being the ensemble player that holds the literal bullet heading for Alexander during his duel. Damani Van Rensalier was our Bullet, and like a shadow she crept throughout the show unnoticed before it finally clicked with me. The Bullet does have some key moments that point to them as being Death, but I was so caught up in all the action on the stage that I didn't even realize I missed her until "Yorktown," when I saw her helping John Laurens. A scene later, he's dead, and I couldn't keep my eyes off Van Rensalier throughout the rest of Act Two, hoping to see how and when her Bullet would strike others down.

The way that HAMILTON stages itself, there is always at least three or four different things going on across the stage. Whether it be the turntable or the upper level or the staircase, so many characters are doing so many disparate things at once, but it all appears so effortless and timed to look like casual movement. The choreography can be dizzying but every performer up there never faltered. Compared to the last time I saw HAMILTON, even among the swirling madness of the ensemble, it did seem a touch lighter in number. Perhaps in our post-COVID world the numbers had to dwindle down. It's even more understandable given that at my evening's performance, three of the principles were played by understudies, which did lessen the amount of ensemble players on the stage.

Prominent among the understudies at my evening's show was Cherry Torres as Eliza Schuyler Hamilton. The Puerto-Rican-born performer filled in for Alysha Deslorieaux, who was part of the original Broadway cast and played Eliza both on tour and in Chicago. I did not have an opportunity to grab a program until intermission, so had no idea Torres was Deslorieaux's understudy until I finally got to peruse through the book. Had I not known that, I would have thought she'd been the regular Eliza for the duration of the tour. She fit so well into the role as the helpless middle Schuyler sister, acting opposite Utomi as if they'd been scene partners for months. She brought the audience to a standstill with "Burn," at least until an overzealous fan in the audience cried out, "Woohoo!" during her tearful silence in between lines. That didn't break her concentration, though, as she finished the song and remained silent once more while the audience gave her a much-deserved round of applause.

The overzealousness of fans at Broadway shows sometimes can't be helped. When it's a crowd pleaser where everyone knows the lyrics, there's the inevitable sing-along effect when you just find yourself joining in. As someone who will regularly sing "Satisfied" in my car, I had to consciously stop myself from doing so during Stephanie Umoh's rendition of the song. But at the same time, when you can hear a low hum among the crowd of people humming along to King George's playful "da-da-da da-da," it almost feels like you're granted permission to join the chorus and sing along. Still, I would just also say as general theatre etiquette, unless they're explicitly telling you to sing (As George does in "You'll Be Back"), please don't.

The allure of this show speaks for itself, any recommendation I could make would simply be to pick your seats wisely. Among the orchestra, I had a great, intimate view of these performers. But it came at the cost of choosing where to focus, so sometimes certain actions were out of my eyeline. I still remember my 2019 viewing from the front balcony, with just enough distance between me and the stage that I wasn't panning across constantly like a CinemaScope camera. Balcony offers just the right distance, but at Dr. Phillips Center, mezzanine sometimes provides a more optimal viewing. Your mileage may vary on the kind of theatrical experience you're looking for, but my personal ideal viewing section has always been front mezzanine. The way this show functions, you get the most advantageous view of everything on the stage.

The world of HAMILTON is wide enough no matter where you sit, especially as you'll feel satisfied as the show blows us all away. Still, don't throw away your shot to be in the room where it happens. You'll be back, it's hard to say no to this. If you end up having to wait for it, the upper balcony would be enough. Man, this wordplay is non-stop!

The Angelica Tour of HAMILTON runs through November 20, giving Central Florida theatre acolytes plenty of opportunity to see the show before it heads down to Fort Lauderdale for two-and-a-half weeks. Tickets can be acquired online or at the box office, pending availability.

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