Review: GREEN DAY'S AMERICAN IDIOT Snaps, Crackles and Rocks at American Stage

Mildred: "Hey Johnny, what are you rebelling against?" Johnny: "Whadda you got?" --Marlon Brando in The Wild One

"A Wasteland I Like To Call Home." --Graffiti on the walls in AMERICAN IDIOT

"American Stage?" I asked, my face squinched in confusion. "American Stage is doing AMERICAN IDIOT as their season opener, and not even as an in-the-park experience? Can they pull it off?" I would expect this pulsating Green Day extravaganza to rock the house of such local companies as Jobsite or even Mad Theater (the latter having performed it several years ago). But American Stage? Will a theatre company known for top-flight dramatic and comedic works, important cutting-edge plays in somewhat hoity-toity surroundings, be able to capture the raw intensity and punk bombast of AMERICAN IDIOT? Would it be like some death metal group performing a musical based on Tombstoner's Victims of Vile Torture at the Villages?

Personally, I've loved Green Day for nearly thirty years. For millions of us, we discovered them with their third studio album, Dookie. It was early 1994, and I was in a Virgin Record Store in Los Angeles when I heard "Longview" for the first time. There I was, a lost thirtysomething member of Generation Jones, detached and uncertain, and there was a band and this song mirroring my mood on this lonely road in this land of the lost. I bought the cassette tape then and there (I still didn't have a CD player yet) and knew instantly that this was it, the soundtrack of my life.

Ten years later, during the early stages of the Iraq War and just before the disappointing election of 2004, AMERICAN IDIOT was released. Again, for people like me, smiling outcasts who felt helpless and defeated with the way world was turning, here's incredible music that captured the mood, a snapshot of disillusion. The work became the zeitgeist, reflecting a generation's aggressive disenchantment, like Never Mind the Bollocks, Here's the Sex Pistols for the 1970s and Nirvana's Nevermind in the 1990s. Listening to their music and their words in this f**ked-up world, I suddenly didn't feel so alone.

And then this incredible album--a work that so blisteringly captured our dispirit--became a Broadway hit with Green Day's music, lyrics by Billie Joe Armstrong, and a book by Armstrong and Michael Mayer. It was nominated for a Best Musical Tony and won a Grammy for Best Musical Show Album in 2010. It also begged the question: How do you capture the fury of punk in a musical theatre show? Can punk, or even neo-punk or pop-punk or whatever you want to call it, be contained in a story format and survive in a garden that once grew Brigadoon and No No Nanette?

Flash forward to 2022, and AMERICAN IDIOT has become the season opener for, of all places, the prestigious American Stage (now in their 45th season). It's a fascinatingly odd choice that turned into an odd evening from the start, because you have an energetic show that at times wants to burst at the seams, a show so alive that maybe it even wants the audience to jump out of their seats. Yes, it tells a story, but the music is made to move you, to rev up your soul. But that doesn't happen here, it can't. What you wind up having is a quiet, riveted, respectful audience, many of whom were seemingly confused even if they enjoyed the songs. They gave each number polite applause. Yes, I saw several heads bobbing to the music, including one older gentleman in the front who was having the time of his life. But for the majority of that audience, they might as well have been watching a musical recreation of Pat Boone: In a Metal Mood.

This is the type of show that feeds off an audience's energy, so when the audience mostly sits in rapt silence throughout, it's quite peculiar. But when they do react, it causes much humor. After a searing "21 Guns," we expected applause but got contemplative silence instead, except for one audience member who said aloud as if a lightbulb suddenly turned on over her head, "Ohhhh!" And after the brilliant and moving "Wake Me Up Before September Ends," an audience member enthusiastically shouted, "Wow!" We needed more of that, but the audience was so deferential that you couldn't read them, and their quiet made what should be a rousing evening seem curioser and curioser.

None of my misgivings is due to the songs (some of the best you'll ever hear) or the mighty cast (full of energy); it's inherent in the show itself, begging that question once again: How do you contain punk and rightfully put it the musical theatre format viewed by a quiet audience, some of whom may know nothing about punk or even Green Day (but who still let their guard down at the end and gave it two standing ovations)?

It's a question I'm still mulling over; I don't know if I'll ever come to a proper answer.

AMERICAN IDIOT'S plot is pretty basic: We follow the ups and downs (but mostly downs) of three young suburban men--Johnny, Tunny and Will--who live out different forms of disaffection. Johnny, "the Jesus of Suburbia," struggles with addiction; Tunny goes to war; and Will stays home with his pregnant girlfriend, taking bong hits and rarely leaving his couch. They are part of a lost generation caught in a revolution, but they don't know what they're revolting against. Surrounding these three is an ensemble that reminded me of the tribe from Hair. (AMERICAN IDIOT could be described as a Millennial Hair, with slacker punks instead of hippies and the Iraq War instead of Vietnam.)

And then there's the cast. Johnny Shea, Zummy Mohammed and especially Nathan David Smith lead the way with incredible voices that often gave me chills. They are followed by such powerhouses as an imposing John Alejandro Jeffords as the druggie pied piper, St. Jimmy (with a neon cross on the back of his jacket, such creative costuming by Jordan Jeffers), and the exemplary Aaron Castle who struts and strips onstage as Favorite Son and is always an electrifying presence. The high energy fist-in-the-air ensemble also features strong work by Mia Massaro, Bryce Bayer, Max Dalton, Natalie Krueger, Brandon Rodriguez, Elizabeth Meckler and Idan Bar.

Two performers stand out over all others. Analise Rios as Whatshername is on fire, marvelously lighting up the stage; her "Letterbomb," never a favorite before this, became one of the production's top numbers. She's a dynamo, and whenever she's onstage the entire show is taken to the next level. Brilliant work.

Best of all is Tim Creavin as Theo. He obviously understands what punk is about, because whenever there was a group number, I watched him and his jittery rage. He was so kinetic, so enthralling, that it was impossible to turn away from his performance. He wasn't a lead, but he's who I think of when looking back on the show. He exuded the punk fury, the veins on his neck popping out and his saucer-wide eyes bulging out of their sockets. He's so good that I wondered if he could do a One Man AMERICAN IDIOT. He exemplifies the punk ethos as well as anyone from Johnny Rotten to Billie Joe Armstrong, and his performance in a relatively small role is one of the best I've seen all year.

You can't go wrong with the music because it's Green Day and it's going to rock. And since we have some really good singers here, the songs sound incredible with tremendous harmonies, much thanks to Juan Rodriguez's music direction. The live band keeps the heart beating and the energy flowing and features Christian Schultz and Clark Jacobson on guitar, Nic Giordano on bass guitar, Rose Mallare on the cello, Andrew Deeb on the drums and Rodriguez himself on the keyboards. They provide the snap, crackle and rock that moves the show like a locomotive.

Scott Cooper once again proves his superhero might as a scene designer with a stunning set, with scaffolding everywhere like the world is under construction. The only really immersive part of the show is when audience members have to walk under the scaffolding to get to their seats. Eight TV sets, playing videos from Ren & Stimpy to war footage, sit on top of each other and reminded me of the end of Michelangelo Antonioni's Zabriskie Point, where a bunch of televisions are set on top of each other and explode in a sort of mass media Apocalypse. (I wanted them to explode during this show, but that wasn't to be.) The bubble effect, like the Fizzy Lifting Drink machine in Willy Wonka's factory, really worked for me here during an intimate scene between Johnny and Whatshername. And Jessica Stevens' lighting design, including strobe effects, adds so much to the volcanic adrenaline rush that they're striving for.

The choreography by Deanna Dys aided by Zummy Mohammed, while entertaining, sometimes became too musical theatre for the show on hand; it needed to be more raucous, more punk. It just seemed very safe to me. The cast certainly does a top-drawer job of the mob dances, but it seemed too forced for my tastes. It certainly wasn't the immersive experience that we were promised.

The show got off to a rocky start, when a sound glitch harmed the galvanizing title song. Once the volume was turned up midway through the number, we could take a sigh of relief. But not for too long, because Johnny's mic went out during one of his key songs, "Boulevard of Broken Dreams," and someone had to run and hand him a handheld microphone. It reminded me of the sound issues that always plague the American Stage in the Park shows at Demens Landing, but without the drunken audience joy that wipes away any caring for sound glitch headaches.

Director Gavin Hawk obviously loves his punk and loves Green Day. And his love is what guides the show to its successes; he's a visionary and should be quite proud of his cast and crew. It's just unfortunate that he was stuck inside the formal theatre and not given an American Stage in the Park slot (which, for reasons unknown, will be Ragtime next spring). AMERICAN IDIOT is the perfect In the Park show, where the audience could sing along, form most pits, and even crowd surf. That's what this production calls for at times, but director Hawk makes the most of what he can in the space at hand. He just needs to get the right audience in there to give the energy back to the cast, to take this work to the level it needs to be. (It came close during one point on opening night: The audience clapping along to the last song of the show, "Good Riddance.")

AMERICAN IDIOT is rightfully selling out, and you'd be an idiot, American or otherwise, if you missed it. Even with my questions and misgivings, it has some of the most incredible songs of the past twenty years, songs that are part of our very being, the fabric of a generation. And if you like Green Day, then chances are that you'll love this riotous ode to disheartenment and disillusionment. I hope you'll have the time of your life.

GREEN DAY'S AMERICAN IDIOT at American Stage runs thru October 2nd.

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