The Book of Mormon at 15-ish

The Book of Mormon at 15-ish

There are four things I recall vividly about seeing The Book of Mormon, a show I have not returned to since seeing it on April 16, 2011. 

First, it was cold and rainy. Very rainy. Heavy rain poured throughout the day, and everything just smelled so wet, including the interior of the Eugene O'Neill. I guess that's not so surprising given that the place has no real lobby to speak of.so we all walked directly inside, dripping wet. The powers that be, it seems, were perfectly willing to let the sold out crowd stand in a line getting soaked in a cold downpour that even the sturdiest of umbrellas could not begin to stave off. To say the mood in the crowd was less than patient would be a gross understatement. I know I was less than thrilled, especially since I wasn't all that excited to see it. We bought tickets early, at a substantial discount, which, looking back, was a novel thing that wouldn't again be available for several years. The tickets were cheap and I was determined to continue my streak of seeing every new Broadway musical each season. Mike did, too, but he was also a fan of the writers of the show, and their animated series. Me, not so much. You see, South Park isn't really my thing - to date, I still have never seen a full episode.

The next thing I remember like it was yesterday was our seats: dead center, third row front mezzanine. They were perfect, view-wise. We could not only see the actors pretty up close, but we could see the whole stage at once. If you've seen it, you know that is a relatively lavish production, and seeing the entire stage picture was really something. But would I ever sit up there again? No. Not even for a free ticket, or even if they paid me. Those seats were so close to the row in front of us that my knees literally dug into the seat back directly in front of me. It was extremely painful. And I know I wasn't the only one to feel that way, the lady next to me commented about it loudly to her husband, who also complained that his knees were killing him. They did not return for the second act, so at least my left leg got a reprieve after intermission.

Third, I remember being so pleasantly surprised at how smart and genuinely funny the show was. It skewered every group represented in the show with equal severity, and it was creatively subversive and bawdy all at once. Heck, I even learned a thing or two. That's not to say that I didn't take issue with some of it. Its bold-faced racism was a bit hard to take take comfortably, and I was, frankly, a little shocked at how the people of color in the show stood there and just took it. But they did, and I got to see some now-favorite performers for the first time, including Tony-winner Nikki M. James, Michael Potts, Rory O'Malley, Andrew Rannells, and breakout star Josh Gad. Discomfort at some of the content aside, I really enjoyed it. In fact, I gave it an A- review (HERE).

Finally, and what I remember most, was my assessment as we were filing out into the still pouring rain. I decreed pompously, "I give it three years, tops. It is a novelty show with a limited appeal to South Park fans, most of whom wouldn't leave their basements long enough to see a Broadway show." Man, was I arrogant! Clearly, nearly 15 years later (and with no end in sight) the show's appeal had hardly abated. South Park continues to be relevant, and new legions of fans seem to be discovering it each year. So I was wrong, and glad to be. If it serves as a gateway to folks seeing other Broadway shows, all the better.

Is it my cup of tea in retrospect? No. And a lot of it is really offensive, well beyond the "on purpose" stuff. And I even have feelings about this big "Hello 15" advertising campaign. It won't be fifteen years until the end of February, if you count previews, the end of March if you don't count it until its official opening. Okay, I'm a theater snob and nit picky. On the other hand, I love the "Hello 15" play on the show's opening number, as well as the homage to another long-runner, A Chorus Line, a show whose run will be eclipsed by BOM in a year and a half (it would be a lot closer had the pandemic not interrupted everything so rudely). Looks like the elders will be saying, "Hello!" for a long time to come.