Metro Weekly

Review: Hunter S. Thompson Musical Misses the Mark

Signature Theatre’s high-octane rock musical paints Hunter S. Thompson as a counterculture icon, but leans too hard on hero worship and too little on meaningful insight.

Huner S. Thompson: Eric William Morris - Photo: Daniel Rader
Huner S. Thompson: Eric William Morris – Photo: Daniel Rader

If you don’t know or don’t recall what a big deal Hunter S. Thompson was, he’s here to tell you how big a deal he was — and why — in Signature Theatre’s The Untitled Unauthorized Hunter S. Thompson Musical, directed by Christopher Ashley.

In fiction, as he apparently was in life, the maverick writer is his own biggest fan, eager to blow his horn in this rock ‘n’ roll odyssey from Be More Chill creator Joe Iconis, who composed the music and lyrics, and co-wrote the show’s book with Gregory S. Moss. Their story takes us through Thompson’s unruly journey from middle-class kid in 1940s Louisville, Kentucky, to self-proclaimed major figure in American history, a leading voice of the ’60s counterculture movement.

An exceedingly self-aggrandizing hero — portrayed by Eric William Morris with a mischievous gleam in his eye and the genial comedic air of ’80s-era Tom Hanks — Thompson eagerly breaks the fourth wall to narrate the tale himself. He’s backed by a healthy ensemble of performers, appearing as his so-called demons, voices of his conscience and of his past, like his feisty mother, Virginia (Lorinda Lisitza).

Surrounded by his demons, Thompson sings his own praises, between snorts of dexedrine, communing with us from scenic designer Wilson Chin’s woodsy set. “We believe in freedom here,” Thompson declares. Where is here? A men’s lodge maybe, generously plastered with posters, paintings, magazine clippings, stuffed bucks, and sundry other doodads.

It’s where Thompson presides over likeminded “freaks” who deem him, as he deems himself, a hero, a rebel, a leader, and disruptor. More through song and description than via compelling dramatization, the musical tells of rather than shows Thompson’s rise as an esteemed journalist and provocateur to the heights of ’60s-’70s celebrity cool.

Few writers ever enjoy such a level of fame that might entail having fans who dress up like them in their honor. But Thompson managed to captivate his audience not just with words, but also with his style, nailing down a look — the bucket hat, printed shirts, and lemon-yellow shades — that’s still imitated today, and totally recognizable even now, twenty years since his death.

His impact as the patron saint of middle-class straight white guys who want to question authority, challenge the culture, and let their freak flag fly remains solid, if a little dated and specific. After all, if you were, say, a Black queer person living your truth in 1970, or any queer person, you already knew the liberation that Hunter S. Thompson was still discovering.

Notably, he’s asked in the show why there are no Black people in his books. “I’ve written about the Negro struggle,” he responds, sounding like a man unacquainted personally with those struggles or with many Black folks. However, he considers himself one with the struggle against injustice and oppression, and sincerely hopes to make a difference for all.

That is the matter that troubles him. He’s joined momentarily by two other brand-name authors, F. Scott Fitzgerald and Ernest Hemingway, to ponder whether he and his career have made a difference.

In the most persuasive passage, Thompson’s on a mission to bring down sworn enemy Richard Nixon (George Abud, who’s delightful) with the power of his scathing writing. But he must confront the fact that his gonzo journalism does not stop America from re-electing “fascist asshole” Nixon. His shock and dismay over America’s embrace of faux-everyman Nixon resonates sharply now.

Resonating more pleasurably is the robust sound of the full cast, supported by conductor Rick Edinger and the five-piece band. Songs like “Rich Kids,” a wise lesson from Thompson’s mama to her newborn, and “Hey Dad,” an ode to familial connection sung beautifully by Ryan Vona as Thompson’s semi-estranged son, convey struggles in his life that could not be soothed by celebrity or his drug of choice.

In those moments, prizing someone else’s point of view, we find relief from Thompson’s ego and the insistent portrayal of how big a deal he was and is, whether you believe it or not.

The Untitled Unauthorized Hunter S. Thompson Musical (★★☆☆☆) runs through July 13 at Signature Theatre, 4200 Campbell Ave., in Arlington, Va.

A Pride Night performance is on June 27, and Discussion Night performances are on June 17 and July 9. Tickets are $47 to $112. Call 703-820-9771, or visit www.sigtheatre.org.

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