Wednesday, February 11, 2009

Rustles of Spring

I emailed my friend Maud, inviting her to see the tour of the 2006 hit musical Spring Awakening, and included a plot synopsis. Her response - "It sounds just horrible and I'd love to see it" - pretty much mirrored my own thinking. Based on the controversial 1891 play Frühlings Erwachen by German dramatist Franz Wedekind, Spring Awakening deals with teenagers trying to understand their budding sexuality in a neurotically oppressive environment where the topic can't even be mentioned. "The original play", according to Wikipedia , "was banned in Germany due to its portrayal of masturbation, abortion, rape and suicide." It does sound horrible.

On stage, though, it's nothing short of wonderful. Duncan Shiek's rock score, while wildly anachronistic for the 1891 setting, radiates a hormone-drenched intensity that's absolutely right for his angry and confused teen protagonists. Besides, most of the songs serve to illuminate the characters' emotional states rather than advance the plot, so the sight of late-19th-century German schoolboys pulling out wireless microphones and launching into aggressive numbers like "The Bitch of Living" seems no more absurd than any other musical theatre contrivance.

And brother, does it ever work. Particularly in the high-energy first act, Spring Awakening has a grab-you-by-the-throat intensity that's impossible to resist. It loses a bit of that in the second act, when most of the plot's emotional axe-blows fall, but by then I was so taken by the show's originality and drive that it didn't matter. Steven Sater's book and lyrics, Michael Mayer's direction, Christine Jones' scenic design, Susan Hifferty's costumes and Kevin Adams' lighting and Bill T. Jones' choreography all combine harmoniously with the score to deliver maximum impact. Jones' work, in particular, brilliantly turns the kids' desperate attempts to escape the repression of their daily lives into violent, angular action.

The story centers on two friends - the brilliant and rebellious Melchior and the troubled Moritz. Tormented by the incomprehensible onset of puberty and rejected by his father for failing to advance at school, Moritz commits suicide. When a dissertation that the more enlightened Melchior had written for him on the facts of life is found among the boy's possessions, the hypocritical headmasters use it to blame Melchior for corrupting his friend and causing his death. Worse yet, Melchior's brief roll in the hayloft with the naïve Wendla - whose mother has let her believe that you can't have children until you're married - results in a pregnancy.

Melchior is shipped off to a brutal reformatory. He escapes, expecting to find Wendla and run away with her, only to discover that she has died from an illegal abortion arranged by her mother. On the brink of suicide himself, Melchior is visited by the ghosts of Moritz and Wendla, who urge him to go on with his life and remember theirs. "I'll never let them go", sings Melchior. "Just watch me. / I'm calling. / And one day all will know."

Yes, the story is of another century. But the themes of sexual repression, hypocrisy and cynical cruelty are, sadly, evergreen. As the Melchior sings in "All That's Known": "All they say / Is ‘Trust in What is Written.' / Wars are made, / And somehow that is wisdom. / Thought is suspect, / And money is their idol". The malady lingers on.

The ensemble cast for this tour is uniformly strong, led by Kyle Riabko and Blake Bashoff - both alumni of the Broadway production - as Melchior and Moritz. Singer/songwriter Christy Altomare beautifully captures Wendla's tragic vulnerability and Steffi D has a great cameo as the "fallen woman", Ilse.

As a way of dramatizing the uniformity of oppression, Sater's book has all of the authority figures - from clueless mothers to arrogant headmasters - played by the same two actors. In this production those roles are filled wonderfully by Angela Reed and Henry Stram. Praise is also due to Sarah Hunt as Martha, victimized by a sexually abusive father and a mother deeply in denial. Her song, "The Dark I Know So Well", is heart wrenching.

Under the sometimes overly demonstrative direction of Jared Stein the on-stage rock band, augmented by a small string section, is tight and precise. Better yet, the sound, while loud enough to give the necessary visceral kick to Sheik's music, gets nowhere near "bleeding ear" territory and the vocals are crisp, clear and completely understandable - something of a rarity for tours of rock musicals.

Ironically, this powerful and intelligent show about troubled teens comes with an adults-only "explicit content" warning. It's there largely because of the occasional sexually explicit scene and Anglo-Saxon expletive. So if that sort of thing offends you then, by all means, give this a miss. But if you want to find out just how great a rock musical can be, then by all means rush to get your tickets for Spring Awakening. It plays the Fox through February 22nd; call 314-534-1111 for ticket information.

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