This week, Jeff and I paid another visit to “Illinoise,” last season’s unique, feel-everything dance musical. The first time around, we saw the show from the rear mezzanine, quite a distance from the stage; this time, we splurged for tickets in the fourth row of the center orchestra. I really appreciate having seen it from both locations, affording us both a big-picture overview and the opportunity to see the finer details of the performance from just a few feet away.
When we saw the show’s second performance back in April, I was surprised at how big an impression it made on me. I’m usually someone who is moved by music but not so much by dancing, so I suspected that a story told mostly through choreography would inspire more appreciation than love. I am glad to have proven myself wrong, and Jeff and I immediately decided that we’d have to see Illinoise a second time during its brief limited run.
Of course, my love for the show is greatly helped by the ravishing score and wonderfully quirky orchestrations, which are right up my alley. (I suspect Sufjan Stevens would have won a Tony if this had been a new score). It’s also helped by four unforgettable central performances. Ricky Ubeda (Henry) conveys a lovable vulnerability that’s almost too easy to relate to. Ben Cook (Carl) oozes what’s currently known as rizz, and it’s easy to see why Henry would follow him even to the ends of the earth. Ahmad Simmons (Douglas) is a miraculous combination of rocky steadfastness and emotional flexibility, the kind of person everyone would like to have in their lives. Gaby Diaz (Shelby) has less stage time, but she very quickly conjures up a fully-realized character whose fate makes a palpable impact on the audience.
For the rest of this post, I thought I’d list some of the things about Illinoise that have impressed me the most after two viewings.
My three favorite ensemble members:
Alejandro Vargas (Wayne) brings a great deal of horror, as well as unexpected empathy, to his solo in “a story about John Wayne Gacy, Jr.,” but his dancing and his warm presence stand out through all of the full-company scenes. His smile - perhaps I should say smiles - vividly conveys the communal joy and the mutual compassion shared by his friends throughout the show.
Byron Tittle (Cass) made me love tap-dancing, if only for the duration of “a story about Jacksonville.” It’s hard to ignore the power of the genre when it’s not only performed with expert precision, as it is here, but also helps to create a living character almost out of thin air. He, too, is a warm and welcome presence in the ensemble scenes.
Jeanette Delgado (Jo Daviess) establishes herself, without saying a word, as the group’s informal but undisputed leader, gently nudging her campfire friends to share their stories through the power of her kindness and understanding. Her movement and expression always draws the eye in the ensemble numbers, and I’m not at all surprised that she’s one of the show’s dance captains.
Three scenes I love (and one I could do without):
“The Predatory Wasp of the Palisades Is Out to Get Us” covers a lot of emotional territory with a beautiful economy. It tells us everything we need to know about Douglas and his love for Henry, as well as about Henry’s guilt over his choices.
“The Seer’s Tower” doesn’t feature the show’s most stirring music or striking choreography, but it succeeds, in its disturbing way, on the strength of a hauntingly gorgeous concept and brilliant execution.
The reprise of “Chicago” leads us swiftly and surely from the depths of guilt and grief to a celebration of communal healing. The music and dancing tell us that Henry, and the others, will survive and thrive, whatever else might come their way. The LED orbs tell us that he will never again find himself wanting for friends in time of need.
But “a story about Zombies” doesn’t do much for me. The zombie imagery isn’t anything new, and the political message is a bit heavy-handed; it seems like the creative team didn’t quite know what to do with this song and its uncharacteristically specific lyrics.
The three most satisfying musical moments:
The abrupt transition between the soloist’s sweet and gentle vocals and the pulsating rock texture in “a story about the Man of Metropolis” creates an exciting musical moment. It makes you want to jump up and down with the ensemble!
I love the “Predatory Wasp” orchestrations in general, but the long instrumental outro takes us on a purely musical journey from chaos and turmoil to acceptance and understanding.
The pure, joyful, catchy simplicity of the music at the start of “The Tallest Man, The Broadest Shoulders” is just what we need after everything we’ve gone through with these characters, even if the audience tries in vain to clap to the tricky rhythm.
Three things I noticed the second time around:
Even with a hat to hide his bleach-blond hair and a bulky outfit to hide his identity, it was immediately obvious this time around that Ben Cook appears as an ensemble dancer in several scenes. I know it’s essential to be economical with casting when you want a lot of people on stage, but I have to admit that my first instinct was to follow what he was doing as if he were another incarnation of Carl.
During the campfire scenes, so much is conveyed through the facial expressions of all of the ensemble members, and this of course is something that’s pretty impossible to appreciate from the rear mezzanine. Sitting so close, it was a pleasure to take in little moments like Douglas’ gentle teasing of Henry in the final scene.
Of course, certain details of the scenery were much easier to appreciate up close. I had heard that there were upside-down trees, but this wasn’t at all obvious from higher in the theater. Nor was the fact that one of the Sears Tower posters had been spray-painted to conform with the song title “Seer’s Tower.” And I certainly didn’t notice the chalk drawing of a car with a huge rooster in it, whatever that’s supposed to mean!
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